Over
by The Emcee
Summary: AU: Harry, or rather the Green Goblin, is about to kill Peter after having just caused Gwen Stacy's death. When he is about to deliver the killing blow, the Goblin stops, having realized something that Harry forgot with time and ignorance: he, Harry, they, can't kill Peter. He, they, would never do anything to endanger something that belonged to them. Slash.
1. I

Title: Over

Author: The Emcee

Summary: AU: Harry, or rather the Green Goblin, is about to kill Peter after having just caused Gwen Stacy's death. When he is about to deliver the killing blow, the Goblin stops, having realized something that Harry forgot with time and ignorance: he, Harry, they, can't kill Peter. He, they, would never do anything to endanger something that belonged to them.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: The summary sucks butt. Basically, it's an AU in which soul mates exist. In childhood, Harry had noticed a special connection forming between himself and Peter, but it takes the Green Goblin part of him to realize what that connection was: he had found his soul mate. Jeez, why can't I explain this in the summary? Anyway, this is yaoi, or man on man action, so if you don't like, then please, please, PLEASE don't read. But if you do, then let me know what you think! Also, I don't proof read my material and I don't have a beta reader (if you're interested though, send me a message because I probably need one more than words can describe), so I apologize for any mistakes. R&amp;R. Enjoy!

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**Over**

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"_Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go but rather learning to start over."_

_Nicole Sobon_

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**I**

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Harry had wanted to kill Gwen Stacy from the moment he had laid eyes on her.

He couldn't even explain in rational thought as to why he wanted her dead. All he knew were two things. One: Peter was his, had been his ever since they were children, had remained his even when Harry had been shipped off to boarding school, and was always and forever going to be his. And two: he loathed Gwen Stacy. Despite what Peter had told him about how they had decided to just remain friends because their relationship was lacking something, because something just simply wasn't _there_, Harry couldn't stand the fact that Gwen had been there when he simple could not and that they had forged a bond over everything they had been through.

Harry hated that.

He was hating a lot of things lately.

Such as how Peter had betrayed him, how Spider Man – Peter - , the supposed 'hero' had left him to die on his own and take matters into his own hands, and his father sending him away from and separating him from what was his, just to name a few. The ones that stood out the most at the moment, anyway. And, of course, he was also hating Gwen Stacy.

So, naturally, when Harry had been overwhelmed by the Green Goblin, he had just gone along with letting the blonde genius fall to her death right before his and Peter's eyes. Part of Harry wondered if he could have shoved the Goblin away and gained control. Another part of him wondered if he'd even want to do that. No, he probably wouldn't have.

At the moment, even as he watched tears of anguish and sorrow fall from Peter's doe brown eyes, another spark of violent anger and hatred flared up within Harry, within the Green Goblin. Gwen was a nobody, she certainly wasn't Harry, who had remained by Peter's side even when his parents had left him, and yet here Peter was, crying over her as though he had lost his soul mate. It caused anger and hatred to rush through his veins, anger and hatred for Gwen and anger and hatred for Peter as well. Had Peter ever cried over him? Had Peter ever even cared at all? Had they ever been friends? Did Peter think of little of betraying him?

Apparently so.

The Green Goblin consumed Harry then and, as Peter continued to mourn, snatched the younger boy up and hauled him into the air. His maniacal laughter rang throughout the night sky as he ascended air into the heavens with Peter fighting back feebly. It was no use; there was nothing around for Peter to attach his sticky webs to and if he fell, he'd die just like Gwen Stacy. And that'd be just fine with Harry.

"Now that I've killed your precious Gwen, I'm going to kill you," Harry, the Green Goblin, seethed, getting in Peter's face, his own countenance contorted with loathing.

"H-Harry…" Peter gasped, trying to fight back even though his body and movements were sluggish and easy to predict, thanks in most part of Electro and Gwen Stacy's death.

"You shouldn't have betrayed me, Peter," Harry snarled and he was about to release his hold on Peter and allow him to plummet to his death, thus fulfilling the revenge he had promised himself.

Just before he could do so, however, something stopped him. A soft breeze blew past them and on it was carried the scent of something wonderful and fantastic. It was a scent that Harry recognized, having smelt it many times before now. Due to his enhanced senses that the Green Goblin possessed, it was even more potent, more powerful, and more wonderful than it had been before. Harry was still trying to remember just what exactly it was while the Goblin already knew. How Harry could know and not know all at once was puzzling, but it mattered little in retrospect.

The Goblin came up with the answer immediately: the scent that the breeze had carried with it belonged to his mate, his soul mate, a being that was crafted and created for him and him alone. And then, once Harry realized this as well, the Goblin deduced just who that scent belonged to.

With eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion and apprehension, the Goblin pulled Peter closer to him and sniffed him, inhaling his scent deeply as Peter eyed him with brown eyes full of fear and grief and sorrow. The Goblin's eyes widened as he confirmed his suspicions: Peter Parker, Spider Man, the boy who had betrayed them and had all but sentenced them to die, was their, his, mate. And when Harry realized that, he gained momentary control of himself once more and shouted in shock and anger.

They floated to the ground, Harry gritting his teeth in both frustration and a sick sense of relief. He couldn't, unfortunately, kill Peter, his supposed best friend and the boy who had flat out refused to give him his blood and save his life. He couldn't because Peter was his soul mate and killing his soul mate would also kill himself. Besides, and he would never admit this ever, not even to himself, he was kind of relieved because a small, twisted, damaged part of him still saw Peter as his, as his best friend, as his one and only companion in this world and any really.

"I hate you!" Harry spat as he threw Peter onto the ground. It took Peter a few tries to get up and steady himself and as he did so, Harry paced, his hangs tangled in his hair.

"W-what's going on?" Peter asked him, his eyes too wide and too innocent for Harry's liking. How could someone who had planned on letting him die look so innocent and sweet?

"Oh, don't be an idiot, Parker," Harry snapped at him. "You know as well as I do what's going on. Don't tell me you can't smell it."

"Smell what? My nose isn't exactly working properly what with all of the snot from crying you know," Peter snapped back. Harry was on him in an instant, slamming him into the nearest wall as hard as he could. He was satisfied with a pained gasp but also pained because, well, Peter was _his soul mate _and all.

"We're soul mates, you and I. We're stuck together, bound, connected, which means that I can't kill you," Harry said in a low growl.

Stupid. He was so damn stupid! How could he have not recognized that scent? It had been so prominent and overbearing when they were kids, always flooding his senses and making him feel as light as a feather and hopeful for the future even though his mom was dead and his dad was a dick who didn't give a damn about him. As a child, Harry had had no idea what it had been, only that he liked it a lot. A lot a lot. When they reconnected after he arrived back home, it had returned, but Harry had just shrugged it off and pushed it aside thinking that it was only Peter.

God, how wrong he had been.

If he would have known, if he would have thought it through, Harry would have figured it out and he would have stayed in Europe and away from Peter, from Spider Man, from all that was going on. But he hadn't and here they were. Hell, he didn't even know where they were. How did one go from trying to kill your best friend to finding out he's your soul mate and that killing him would only end up in killing you as well?

Harry didn't have an answer right then and there for that one, so he opted for yelling into the night sky, venting his frustrations as both Harry Osborn and the Green Goblin while Peter sunk to the ground and stared at him and tears silently flowed down his cheeks.


	2. II

A/N: I am so sorry for taking forever and a day to upload this chapter. I started a new, very early morning shift at one of my jobs and I've been working at the second one right after that, so time and sleep have eluded me. Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for it. R&amp;R. Enjoy!

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**II**

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Harry screamed and shouted until his throat felt raw and sore. His voice was frightening and haunting, magnified by his own suffering and by the Green Goblin. A silence fell upon him and Peter and Harry crouched down on the ground, holding his head in between his hands. With wide eyes, he gazed unseeing at the ground, his mind racing.

He had a soul mate.

Someone like him actually had a soul mate.

His soul mate was Peter.

Peter, who had been his best friend since Harry was five and Peter four.

Peter, who was Spider Man and who had refused to hand over his blood and save Harry's life, was his soul mate.

The pain and hurt and anger and betrayal that Harry felt still lingered, taking hold in the Green Goblin that resided within him. But as crazy as it sounded, Harry was glad that the Green Goblin was like another him inside of him. He was glad because right now, joining all of his ugly feelings, there was also relief and joy at having found his soul mate.

Soul mates, as he had learned at boarding school, had been a common occurrence hundreds of thousands of years ago. Cave paintings all over of the world depicted people with soul mates; two silhouettes joined by a heart, by a simple line, by some other mystic force that people back then believed in. Pottery from ancient times and civilizations such as Egypt and Greece showed similar paintings or hieroglyphs. Translations had been done that told of soul mates, many of them connecting to the different ancient theologies. Like the Egyptian god Geb and his goddess sister turned wife Nut or Isis and Osiris. However, as the centuries passed, soul mates began to dwindle from existence until only an incredibly small fraction of the entire world's population, less than one perfect as a matter of fact, had soul mates.

And Harry and Peter were now part of that incredibly rare breed.

And part of Harry hated Peter. Hated him for lying to him, for leaving him all alone, for not doing anything and letting him die…for not caring.

But another part of him, the good part of Harry, whatever remained of him that was the best of him and hadn't been consumed by anger, hatred, or darkness, loved Peter.

Harry had always loved Peter, first as a first, then as a brother, and finally, something more. Now, though, that love seemed to magnify and was almost bursting throughout him. Harry, the Green Goblin, _they_, both hated and loved that feeling; wanted more of it while at the same time wishing they didn't.

Would it always be this way? Would Harry, the Green Goblin, they, always loved and hate Peter? Want to pull him in close by their side and never let him go while also wanting to cause him immense pain and suffering and tear him apart limb by limb?

Would he, Harry, ever find peace?

The one and only time he had ever known peace, true and happy peace, was when Harry had been a child and had been around Peter. That peace had been taken from him, ripped unceremoniously out of his hands, by his father when he was eleven and shipped off to boarding school like he was nothing. Was it possible for Harry to have that again? Did he even deserve it? Or was that peace long gone and replaced with something foul just like everything else in his life had been?

An uneasy feeling had wormed its way underneath Harry's skin. He felt restless and uncomfortable and he didn't know why. The Green Goblin knew. It was the same feeling Harry always had whenever he was younger and had been separated from Peter; it was the same feeling that had haunted and lingered over him ever since he was eleven and had been taken away from the only good thing in his life. Why Harry hadn't realized it yet annoyed the Goblin because it was such an obvious answer. His soul mate, Harry's soul mate, their soul mate, wasn't by their side. He was still where he had slumped down, his tears having stopped but his eyes, wide and rarely blinking, hadn't left bent and crouched form.

When Harry finally did figure out what it was, he was half tempted just to reject it, reject Peter and their bond. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to live with the restlessness or unease for the remainder of his days. Besides, in the entire history of the world, no one had ever rejected their soul mate. Those who had tried returned to them later on, having found it impossible to stay away for extended periods of time. So, Harry, the Goblin, they, concluded that there was little point in rejecting their bond and Peter. They could still hold onto the anger and hatred and betrayal they felt, of course, but they needed Peter just as much as Peter needed them.

"Peter," Harry called out, his voice hoarse and rough, sounding awful and too guttural to be entirely his own. There were two of him now; two beings, one body.

"H-Harry…?" Peter replied, blinking and seeming shocked that he had been spoken to and not yelled at. Harry, the Goblin, they, smirked. It was obvious who would be the dominate partner and it wasn't going to be them.

"Come here," Harry said. When Peter didn't move, he growled, "Now."

Scrambling to rise to his feet, Peter stumbled clumsily when he managed to stand and walk over to him. Harry listened to his unsteady footsteps and the restlessness and unease began to fade the closer Peter got. Finally, when he was right beside him, it was completely gone and Harry, the Goblin, they, felt whole again. Silence fell upon them and neither one spoke for what felt like an eternity. It couldn't have been more than five, maybe ten, minutes at most, but time had stopped. They were in their own little world, just the three of them.

"What…what did you d-do…Harry?" Peter finally spoke, sounding defeated and sad and drained. Harry wanted to yell at him that what he had done had been the result of Peter's inaction, wanted to scream and shout and release all of what he felt. He didn't though. He had already done that.

"I did…what I had to do to survive, Peter," Harry said, his voice his own again.

"Harry, you-"

"Peter, shut up," Harry growled, the Goblin surfacing for just a brief moment. He had his desired effect though; Peter didn't say another word.

"You abandoned me, Peter. You left me all alone. You were all that I had. All that I had! And you left me alone to die!" Harry hadn't wanted to yell, but he couldn't stop himself. He raised his head and glared at Peter. "Before you, I had nothing, no one. No friends, no family…and then, I had you. And when I was carted off, I had nothing again. Then, I return and we meet again and yet I still end up with nothing! You were everything and you betrayed me!"

"Gwen's dead," Peter said, sounding small and sorrowful. Was all Peter could say to him? After finding out that they were soul mates, Peter was still obsessing over Gwen Stacy?

"She was in our way," the Goblin growled, sounding just at menacing and threatening as he looked. "She needed to die; she deserved it. We hated her for taking what was ours, so we ended her."

Harry knew the words sounded wrong and too horrible, but they were true. He did hate Gwen Stacy, he had ever since he had met her in the elevator at his building and he hated her still even in death. When the Goblin had surfaced, the hatred only intensified, just like every other feeling he felt had intensified because of the Goblin.

He, they, watched at fresh tears welled up in Peter's eyes. As they fell, Harry, the Goblin, they, felt the tiniest prick of regret for their cruelty. Peter was, after all, their mate, the one person who made them whole, and they were causing him pain. That feeling was so gone, however; their own wounds from their mate's betrayal was still fresh and sore and gaping.

"We…we were working on a cure," Peter whispered brokenly, sounding so small and miles away.

Harry, the Goblin, they, had to think about his words. A cure? What cure? For what? And then, they realized. Peter hadn't given Harry his blood, but maybe he had been attempting to figure out a way to ensure Harry's survival by using it. A cure. It made sense. Peter was incredibly intelligent, a genius, and so was Gwen Stacy. Putting their minds together, surely they could have figured out a way to turn Peter's blood into a cure that wouldn't end up causing more harm and damage than good.

The reveal of such a thing made Harry feel numb and the Goblin faded away, into the background. Why hadn't Peter just told him that? Surely, it wouldn't have taken too much time for him to send him a text or to call him, so why hadn't he? To prevent Harry from feeling false hope in case it failed? Or was there some other reason?

It didn't matter now. Peter had lied to Harry. He hadn't told him what was going on and he had caused Harry to take matters into his own hands. Had Peter told Harry what he and Gwen had been working on, Harry wouldn't have gone to Electro and he wouldn't had injected himself with spider venom that caused him to turn into the Green Goblin. In the end, all of this was still Peter's fault and it changed nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

"This…" Harry began, staring into Peter's brown eyes, "changes nothing, Peter."

Nothing at all.


	3. III

A/N: So far, it's a slow build, but there will be some delicious Harry/Peter action in this story. There's so little of it out there, I fear. Oh well. Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter! Please, R&amp;R. Enjoy!

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**III**

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Peter didn't know what to do. Never before had he left so utterly lost.

Gwen, one of his best friends, was dead. Even though things hadn't worked out between them, he still felt deeply saddened by her untimely death. All because of him. Captain Stacy had been right: people he cared about got dragged into what he was involved in and got hurt because of him. Or worse.

Harry was worse. He was still alive and breathing, but he wasn't himself at all. The Harry beside him wasn't the Harry Peter had come to know and love so dearly. It was as though another entity entirely was taking residence inside of his friend's body and Peter honestly had no idea what he could or to help him. Or if there was anything he could, in fact, do. His mind was a jumbled mess and he couldn't think of anything right now. And he didn't want to, either. Too much had happened in such a short period of time.

Electro was dead.

Gwen was dead.

Harry was worse off than both of them.

Peter didn't know what exactly Harry had done, although he had his suspicions, but it was obvious that it hadn't turned out like the older boy had planned. How Harry had managed to get his hands on the spider venom was beyond Peter's knowledge, but it was apparent that Harry had found some and had injected it into his system. And the outcome? The goblin-like creature he had become.

But Harry was still in there. There was still a chance Peter could save him inside and out. Gwen was gone and without her Peter didn't know how long it would take him to perfect the cure they had started working on together. It may take him months, maybe even years. He wasn't sure. All that he did know was that Harry didn't really have months or years to wait for it.

_"This...changes nothing, Peter."_

That's what Harry had told him right after Peter had admitted that he had been working on a cure. With Gwen. To be honest, all Peter had done was supplied his blood and made a few offhanded comments that, surprisingly, seemed to trigger something remarkable in Gwen's mind that helped it all out. It had all been Gwen and now...

Now, Peter just didn't know. He just didn't know what to do anymore.

Aside from losing Gwen as a lab partner, he lost one of his closest friends. And Harry, the guy who had been his best friend since they were kids, the guy who was his soul mate, had been hurt beyond comprehension and now hated Peter's guts. It was enough to make Peter want to give up being Spider Man altogether.

Maybe he should. Maybe it would be better that way. He owed it to Gwen's father, to Gwen, and to Harry. Giving up Spider Man would be the best decision he could make at this point. Besides, did Peter even want to be Spider Man anymore? How many people had died because of him?

Max.

Captain Stacy.

Uncle Ben...

Gwen...

Countless others for sure.

It was time to stop all of this and the only way to do that was to give up being Spider Man. It may not be much of a way to make it up to them, but it was the best he could do, the only thing he could do.

Aside from that, Peter had no idea what to do about...well...him and Harry. Everything had happened all at once: Electro, the power grid, Harry and his goblin-like form, Gwen's death, and the revelation that he and Harry were soul mates, bound for life, destined to make each other whole. What was he going to do about that? Hell, what were _they _going to do about that? Harry, it seemed, despised Peter with every fiber of his being.

Peter knew it wasn't Harry's fault. None of this was. He had been driven by desperation and the need to survive. Had Peter just told him that he was working on a cure with Gwen, perhaps Harry would have been more patient and wouldn't have gone as far as he had. If Gwen had lived, they might have finished it within a few days, a few weeks at the most. But Gwen was dead because of him and Harry was suffering for it. He had been suffering because of Peter for Lord only knows how long now and things were even worse now.

Because of Peter.

Now, they were sitting in silence on the grid site. Neither of them had moved or said anything for ten minutes at least. What were they going to do? Would they be able to move forward after everything? And where would they go after here? Peter had his house with his Aunt May, but what did Harry have left to go back to?

"Hey...Harry?" Peter asked hesitantly. He didn't want to piss Harry off even more than he already was. It wasn't clear how much of a ticking time bomb the Osborn heir was at the moment and he didn't want to find out.

"What?" came Harry's guttural reply. It seemed that when he was angry or upset that his other side...the side that the Goblin seemed to embrace, became more pronounced and obvious.

"Where are you going to go?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry snapped at him. Peter couldn't help but flinch. Harry had never been this angry at him, but then again, he had deserved it. Actually, he deserved a lot worse.

"Well...I'm guessing that you had to do something...not too very good to get the spider venom," Peter said.

"Like I already said: I did what you made me do, Peter," Harry growled, sending a cold glare his way. Would things ever get better between them? After what Peter had done to Harry, probably not.

Sighing heavily, Peter brought his knees up to his chest and leaned his forehead against them. "I know it doesn't change anything, but...I am sorry, Harry. For...for everything," he said, his voice slightly muffled.

Silence fell upon them. It seemed to last for an eternity, but Peter knew that it could have only been a few minutes. The constant silence was torture and Peter knew that he deserved every second of it. He doubted that he'd be able to make up for all of the things he had done to Harry or for all of the lives that had been lost because of him. But if he threw Spider Man away, that might make things a little better, right? Maybe it would save a few lives in the process, right?

He could only hope and right now, he didn't know if he had any hope left. Or if such a thing even existed.

"Who uses the phrase 'not too very good'?" came Harry's voice from beside him. He sounded normal, like himself. He sounded like Harry.

Unable to fight it, a small smile worked it's way onto Peter's face. He turned his head slightly and peeked up at Harry. The blonde looked calmer than he had before and more like himself. A rush of relief shot through Peter and he felt the urge to reach out and touch Harry. But he didn't; he didn't know how Harry would feel about that or react to it and he didn't want to spoil the moment.

Maybe there was such a thing as hope after all.


	4. IV

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter. I hope it makes up for it though. R&amp;R. Enjoy!

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**IV**

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"Before I do anything else, I'm going to pay the OsCorp board a visit and…relieve them of their positions," Harry tells Peter as they stand up.

Peter looks at him, surprised and shocked. What had happened? What went on during the time he was down in the abandoned train station with Gwen working on the cure that might have possibly saved Harry's life?

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"They framed me for Max's accident and accused me of being the one that covered it up even though I had no idea of it," Harry explained.

He may have been looking more like himself during the past ten, fifteen, minutes or so, but now, his voice was starting to change again. Harry was starting to sound like that goblin-creature he had transformed into and Peter knew that that wasn't a good thing. If he could calm Harry down enough, perhaps he could get him to think rationally again. It seemed, for the time being, that Harry had been cured from his deadly illness due to the spider venom he used even though it mutated him into something so unlike himself. Maybe if Peter managed to perfect the cure he and Gwen had been working on, it would negate all of the spider venom Harry had used. Although it was a long stretch, it was still a possibility.

"That's what happens when your dad hires asshole, I guess," Peter said, not really thinking about what he had been saying. It was just the first thing that popped into his mind. But Harry barked out a laugh, a short, sharp one, but it wasn't tainted by the Goblin's presence.

"Yeah, that's true," he said. He then looked at Peter and the taller boy felt as though he was being dissected.

That was something Harry had always been good at: looking at people and being able to discern a lot of things about them that not many people would pick up on. He was far more observant than anyone ever gave him credit for but that was part of his brilliance. Most people only saw the rich, arrogant, spoiled kid but Peter knew that he wasn't all that. He had always known that. Harry was quite intelligent and cunning; hell, he had been able to make a clear and sure-fire connection between Peter and Spider Man just by piecing together a sentence with a newspaper photograph.

Regardless of that, though, Peter felt as though things were returning to normal. Well, not normal. Things would never be normal again. Too much had happened between them in such a short period of time for them to return to normal, at least this soon. It would probably be quite a while until their usual normalcy would return. But things seemed to be getting better. Harry was acting more like the Harry Peter had always known and cared about and that was a huge relief.

"This doesn't change anything between us, Peter. Nothing can change that," Harry told him at last, after seeing into Peter's every soul and finding whatever he found there.

"Everything is subject to change, Harry," Peter countered softly, his mind on autopilot and his mouth going without his knowledge.

"Not this, Peter. Not even if you perfect your cure," Harry said, still sounding like himself.

"I don't know what you want me to do or say, Harry. I know that nothing is going to make up for any of this," Peter told him, his brown eyes never leaving the blue-green ones. The green, Peter noticed, was starting to recede and was being replaced by the bright blue color that he was so used to seeing.

"Maybe it'd be a good thing for you to suffer from this guilt then," Harry replied, starting to sound angry. "It'll remind you that you shouldn't betray your friends. Or, in our case now, your mate."

"Betraying isn't the same thing as protecting," Peter responded, sounding small and insignificant. He felt lower than dirt. If it hadn't been obvious before, it was now: Harry wanted Peter to suffer. Well, he was getting his wish.

"The funny thing is, in order to 'protect' someone, you sometimes need to betray them. So, in a way, they are one in the same," Harry said and when he looked at Peter, he could the green starting to come back. "Besides, I never asked for your protection. I asked for your help."

"I know you did. And I know I should have told you but I didn't want to get your hopes up in case Gwen and I failed," Peter tried to explain.

"False hope would have been better than leaving me in the dark!" Harry snapped, his face contorting in anger. "Telling me about it before hand wouldn't have caused all of this!" Harry gestured around them, the moonlight causing his body armor to shine and shimmer like the surface of a lake at night.

Harry's words left Peter feeling defeated. Yes, the older boy was right. Telling Harry may have prevented everything that had happened after Electro died. But the cure wasn't ready and Peter had no idea if it would have even worked. And he had no idea just how much time Harry had left. No explanation would justify him not telling Harry, however, and Peter understood that the results of what had happened fell upon his shoulders alone. It must have been hell for Harry to find out that Peter, the one who basically sent him to the gallows, was his mate after everything.

"You're right, Harry. I should have just told you about everything," Peter admitted and sat back down. If he hadn't, his legs would have given out and he would have crumpled.

"Yes, you should have. And now…now, you're just going to have to live with yourself," Harry said, his voice beginning to sound like the Goblin's as his face started shifting. The gleeful look on his face didn't waver though.

Peter didn't know what to say or do or even think anymore. What was left, really, to say, do, or think? He doubted that things would improve any time soon. Even if he managed to perfect the cure and gave it to Harry, Harry wouldn't forgive him for putting him in such a state in the first place. Having known Harry for so long, Peter knew that he'd never be forgiven for what he had done. They were at a standstill and how the hell were they supposed to work through that? They were soul mates, bond together for life, and Harry seemed to want nothing to do with Peter except to see him suffer and drown.

Part of Peter knew that that wasn't right. That a mate shouldn't want pain and suffering to come to their other half. But another part of Peter knew that he deserved it and he couldn't argue with that. He didn't expect Harry to give him a free pass on this and he didn't deserve one anyway.

"I'm leaving," Harry announced and his voice brought Peter back to the present and out of his thoughts.

Looking up, he saw that Harry looked more like the Goblin than he did himself now and the brunette knew that the OsCorp board would turn up dead by the morning. As Spider Man, he should try and stop Harry and prevent that from happening. But Peter wasn't Spider Man, not anymore. He had decided to give that up and although the decision was made very recently – maybe half an hour ago tops – he was still going to uphold to it. It was the only way he could pay for what he had done. People would die; people died every day everywhere, with or without Spider Man. Why would giving that up feel like such a big deal when it really wasn't? Not when one considered that New York City was just one place on a big planet full of other cities and people.

"Are you going to stop me?" Harry asked him, his green eyes narrowed and his expression guarded. Peter just shook his head.

"No…no, I'm not," he muttered softly. Harry looked slightly surprised by his answer.

"Why not? Aren't you Spider Man? Don't you save people?" he sneered, his face contorting into a grotesque expression full of disdain and loathing.

"No… I'm not Spider Man. Not anymore," Peter said. "And I don't want to be ever again." At that, Harry frowned. He seemed unpleased by Peter's decision. Why? Peter didn't understand it and he couldn't think straight enough to even attempt to.

"Why not? Why are you giving up being Spider Man now? Why now when so much has already happened?" Harry snapped at him. Peter sighed heavily, feeling drained and defeated and utterly worn out.

"Because it's the only thing I can think of to pay for what I've done," Peter replied softly and looked away from Harry.

"Nothing can pay for what you've done," Harry countered.

"I know that, but I owe this to you. To everyone who died because of me," Peter said.

"If this is a trick…" Harry began.

"It's not. I mean it. I'm done," Peter said.

"But if you're lying to me…I may not be able to kill you, but once I'm done, you'll wish I was," Harry threatened and suddenly, he wasn't Harry anymore. He was the Goblin, an entity, a threat, all on his own.

It suddenly hit Peter that this was his mate. That Harry and the Goblin both were his mate, that they were one being in one body and that they were his. And he was theirs. He had a mate and although things were truly awful between them, that didn't negate the sudden rush of joy and happiness that threatened to overwhelm him at any given moment. His face must have shown what he was feeling because Harry stopped getting on his glider and crouched down in front of him, scrutinizing him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry seethed.

Peter knew that the sudden realization that he had found his soul mate had caused him to enter a state of euphoria – along with the overwhelming feelings that he was already buckling under. But right then and there, even with Harry glaring so hatefully at him, all Peter wanted to do was reach out and touch him, press against him, and stay by his side. And more than anything, he didn't want anything to happen to Harry. Not ever. It didn't make sense why he was suddenly feeling this way, but he was and Peter didn't have it in him to protest.

"You're my mate," Peter whispered softly, his brown eyes wide.

"We've already established that, Peter," Harry growled, looking irritated. Harry was so close to him…Peter wanted to touch him, to make sure that he was there, which made no sense. But his brain wasn't functioning and he didn't have the energy to try and think.

Without any kind of warning, Peter reached out and pulled Harry to him. He was hard and cold thanks to the armor and incredibly uncomfortable, but Peter leaned his forehead against his chest and exhaled. Finally, the haze of confusion that had been clouding his mind began to fade away and everything seemed to be getting better. Being so close to Harry was the ultimate relief and Peter sighed contentedly, all of his feelings draining away and out of him.

Harry was stiff and unresponsive for a while before he wrapped his arms around Peter's shaking shoulders. He had had no idea his shoulders had been shaking. Clawed fingers began to wind into his hair with a gentleness that surprised Peter. The fact that the Goblin could be so gentle was surprising, but it was a good surprise.

"I don't…want you to hate me," Peter confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know that you have every right to…and I don't blame you for it, but…but I don't want my mate to hate me…"

His emotions were all over the place and he didn't understand why and he didn't understand them. They were just there and he was feeling them and not thinking. His confession and the pleading, desperate tone weren't going to change anything. Harry wasn't going to change his mind even though they were mates. Not after what Peter had done.

"I…can't promise you anything, Peter," Harry said after an eternity. His sound was his own again and he sounded just as conflicted as Peter felt. Even though his words didn't promise everything, they didn't sound as convincing as the other things Harry had said before then.

"I have to go, Peter," Harry said and he pulled away. The sudden loss of contact left Peter craving for more.

"Don't go," Peter pleaded desperately. He didn't care that Harry was going to kill the OsCorp board; all that he cared about was that he didn't want Harry to be away from him.

"If I don't, I won't have anywhere else to go," Harry said and before Peter could even open his mouth, he was on his glider and drifting away, toward OsCorp Tower.

"That's a lie," Peter said to himself as he watched Harry go. "You'll always have a place with me."


	5. V

A/N: This isn't going to be a long story. That is, it will be about average for my as far as chapters go: it, hopefully, won't go beyond fifteen. That being said, I'm not saying that there will be fifteen; I'm just saying it won't go beyond that. Very rarely do I do stories that have longer than fifteen chapters, so yeah. I'm not sure where I was going with this… Oh, well! I'm sorry I haven't updated in almost a week. I'm afraid it's going to be like this for the next week or so, what with working and my birthday coming up this Friday and other things. Hopefully I can get back on the right track. Also, _X-Men: Days of Future Past_ has got me into an Erik/Charles kick (younger versions, of course) and…yeah. I still love me some Harry though. I hope you like this chapter! R&amp;R. Enjoy!

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**V**

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Harry was right when he had told Peter that if he didn't do what he was planning, he'd have nowhere else to go. OsCorp was his company and he should be in charge of it. Aside from that, he wasn't going to allow any jackass lawyer or businessman to set him up for a crime he never committed or use his name to cover up something horrible like experimenting on people. There was a score that needed to be settled and he was going to settle it once and for all.

Menken had never liked him to begin with and the feeling had always been mutual. Harry knew that the man would eventually try to get him ousted from his position, a position that Menken had craved since Norman's health began to decline. What surprised Harry was that the man had even allowed him to take over to begin with. Surely, Menken had tried to keep the position and the company away from Harry. But that wouldn't have helped him out since he needed someone to frame and Harry had been that someone.

And now, he was going to ensure that the situation was corrected. He wasn't worried or concerned about the other board members. They were lackeys, followers, and were of little to no threat to Harry. Unlike Menken. But once he was gone, and he would be very soon, the others would toe the line and realize that no one messed with Harry Osborn and got away with it.

No one.

However, as he made his way closer and closer to where Menken would be (OsCorp, of course; he may have ran away, but he'd return to secure his investments), Harry's mind wandered. Instead of thinking how he would get his revenge on Menken, Harry thought about Peter and everything that Peter made him feel.

Angry, definitely, and especially tonight. Frustrated and confused because Harry, the Goblin, they, wanted Peter to pay for wronging them but at the same they didn't want to hurt their mate or allow anyone to hurt him period. At a loss; although Harry was angry at Peter, so very much so that it was frightening, he didn't hate him, no matter what he said. He couldn't hate him and he doubted that he ever would regardless of what Peter has done and might do in the future. And – and he'd be a fool to deny this – there was also love there.

Peter had been in Harry's life since they were little kids. At first, the shy, awkward Peter Parker had just been a friend. Then, he became a best friend. And then a brother. Now, he was something more, he was on a whole different level, and while Harry had been aware of it beforehand, he now understood what that level was and what it meant. Before he had been shipped off, Peter had been there for Harry when his mom died and Harry had been there for Peter when his parents died. Through thin and through thick, they had had each other's back and no matter how angry or upset they got, they always stayed together.

That bond was all but official now and whether they liked it or not, they were joined together by forced they couldn't break or deny.

No matter what Peter had done, Harry, the Goblin, they, were bound to him for the remainder of their days, and he was bound to them. They belonged to each other and as messed up as their situation was at the moment that meant that Harry hadn't lost everything, that he still had some portion of control. And at least Peter had given up being Spider Man, which was even better. No, it wouldn't fix the damage or hurt that had been done, but even Harry had to admit that it was a start. He may not have known the details as to why Peter became Spider Man, but he wasn't stupid; he had a pretty good guess. But thinking about Uncle Ben would only bring back memories of younger days and Harry needed to focus and clear his mind and not think about Ben or Peter.

Just Menken and how it'd be divine to hear his screams.

Harry even knew what he was going to do. Or, rather, the Goblin knew and he felt inclined to let Harry know. A wicked smile spread across his face as he drew closer to the OsCorp building. Accidents happened every day, even to a man like Menken. And it wasn't going to be too difficult untying the web of deceit and lies Menken had spun using Harry's good name. While it would be difficult and tiresome, he was confident that it could be done.

Before the sun rose tomorrow, Menken would be dead and Harry would have his company back again.

Approaching from the sky, darkened by the night as it may be, Harry could see that the lights were shining brightly in his office. Sure enough, Menken was in there, talking to someone on his phone. He waited and watched, like a predator stalking its prey. Minutes passed by before Menken hung up his phone and stood in the office. The desk was still a crumpled mess of debris and there was really no place for one to work at. That was fine; Harry could always get another desk.

Adrenaline began to pump through his bloodstream. Menken was alone. It was late at night. The city's power had just been returned which meant that no one would be paying any attention to him. Now was the perfect time to repay Menken for what he had done and Harry was going to collect his due.

Harry charged at the large glass windows of the office, his office. The glass shattered so easily upon impact that it made him laugh, a maniacal, insane laughter, the laughter of the Goblin. Everything that had happened that day began to resurface into a large tidal wave of anger upon which the Goblin was riding. Soon, Harry found himself sitting in the background of his mind while the Goblin took over.

It was like watching a movie on a big theater screen: the Menken turned and saw him, the Green Goblin, them, and before he could even yell, the Goblin had him by the throat. They were out of the office and soaring into the air in a mere matter of seconds. Soaring above the recovering city, they made their way towards the power grid, Menken choking in the Goblin's grasp, his fingers trying to peel away the vice-like grip from around his throat.

Peter wasn't there. He had gone who knows where and Harry, for a brief moment, yearned for his mate's company. But he couldn't think about Peter, not right then and there, not when the Goblin was in charge and thoroughly enjoying watching Menken choke and struggle in his grasp as the life began to ever so slowly drain out of him. Choking him would be too easy, too quick, too merciful.

Harry, the Goblin, they, rose upwards on their glider, high above the grid. Once they were high enough to satisfy the Goblin, Menken was brought close to their face. Piercing, fierce green eyes bore into the man, seeing through him as though he were a mere insect that needed to be squashed or killed quickly, like an ant and the Goblin was holding the magnifying glass. Cackling, the Goblin spoke to Menken.

"You…shouldn't have messed with me," he said, his voice full of glee and joy. His enemy, their enemy, would soon be dead and that was reason enough to be happy right then and there.

Menken, stilling struggling to break free although his attempts were dwindling along with his strength, tried to respond. His words came out as a choked gurgling sound that only made the Goblin laugh.

"I wish I could say I hope you have a nice fall, but you won't," the Goblin sneered and cackled. Then, he released his hold on Menken's throat.

Harry, the Goblin, they, watched, together, as the man screamed as he fell down to the power grid. His body hit the grid and he screamed as electricity sizzled and crackled all throughout his body, frying him like a piece of bacon. The city's lights flickered and went out as Menken fried and the Goblin could only laugh maniacally as he watched the beautiful sight.

All too soon it was over and Menken's body stilled. Smoke rose from his corpse and the city's lights returned after a moment or two of still, utter darkness. Now that Menken was dead and at the grid, Harry could return to his office and plan. He already knew what he would say, of course: Menken had set Harry up in order to gain control of the company. Tomorrow, Harry would tell the remaining board members and the world that Menken had covered up Electro's creation and had schemed with him to gain control of the city to further the company's goals and continue their human experimentations at Ravencroft – having control of the city would give him endless subjects to test on. But Menken's plan had been thwarted, Electro had been destroyed, and a girl's life had been lost in the process. Fabricating the evidence wouldn't be too hard, but finding how Menken had forged his signature would be tricky. Not impossible though; all Harry needed was to know where to look and he knew that it could all be found at his company.

Harry's explanation would need some refining, but the outline was set and it would be easy to follow. Having all of the pawns on the table and exposed, he doubted the other board members would be too suspicious. While they knew that Harry disliked Menken and vice versa, Harry could easily, and justifiably, explain his distrust and loathing to the late board member and former Vice President. It would be a walk in the park compared to some of the other things he had endure tonight.

Turning his glider back towards the city, Harry sped off to his company, the Goblin's cackling laughter following him along the way. He would have plenty of time to gather his bearings and before noon tomorrow, OsCorp would once again be his. Having Menken out of the way made him feel lighter and he managed to forget the chaos that waited for him as far as Peter was concerned. Right now, he had gotten what he had wanted: the death of the man who had tried to bury him and a distraction from Peter Parker.


	6. VI

A/N: I am so sorry it's taken me forever and a day to update this. Please forgive me! R&amp;R. Enjoy!

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**VI**

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"So…are there any more questions about the matter at hand, gentlemen?" Harry asked the Oscorp board. He stared them down, knowing that there was no flaw in the 'facts' he had just presented to them.

Those idiots had no idea that they had been fooled and they had fallen for it all so easily. Were they really that stupid? Perhaps. But then again, maybe they were just turning a blind eye because what Menken had done would be a severe blow to the company as well. How would it look if the newspaper headlines read: Oscorp Vice President frames heir for horrid human experimentation at Ravenscroft? It would look pretty damn bad. At least this way, everybody won. And seeing as how the police had checked through everything, had gone through every little detail, there was nothing left, really, to debate or even argue. Everything had checked out.

Harry now had his company back and the board all thought that Menken had been responsible for Electro coming into being and desired control of the city. He hadn't really lied about the Electro part; Menken was at the very least partially to blame and he had sent him to Ravenscroft, had approved for the experiments that had been performed on him.

Presenting the falsified evidence to the board had been easy. Harry had had more than enough time to plant it and make sure that it all made perfect sense. And it did. And, judging by the expressions on the remaining board members' faces, they bought it. He'd smirk if it wasn't for the fact that it would arouse suspicion. That being said, he did feel smug about it even though he didn't let it show. What can he say? It was the Osborn way.

"Well, Mr. Osborn, it seems that the facts are irrefutable," said one board member, a man in his late fifties.

"We had no idea…" another one said, shaking his head in disgust.

"I'm afraid that we all must apologize to you, Mr. Osborn," the only female member, a woman who had to be in her sixties, told him. "Had we not been so naïve and blind, we could have prevented this entire problem from the start."

"I suppose that we all need to be on our toes from now on," Harry told them, only vaguely threatening to fire them all. After all, he couldn't just go around and kill all of his board members regardless of how much he, the Goblin, they, wanted to.

"Shall we continue with the meeting?" a member asked, and the meeting began.

It was boring; they always were. That was one thing that would never, ever change. Board meetings were boring as hell. What didn't help matters was that Harry had an itch he just couldn't scratch, just underneath his skin. He didn't know what it was but he wanted it to stop. No, he needed it to stop.

The Goblin, he knew what it was and he was laughing at Harry's cluelessness. Clearly, he was enjoying watching Harry suffer. It was aggravating and it was distracting. He had to sit through this meeting and keep appearances up; that meant having the Goblin gone and out of his mind until the meeting was over. But that would be impossible. He, they, were one and the same; two people in one body. However, the most stressful part of the day was over and done with. With the police having finished their investigation – which didn't take long at all considering that the evidence was quite clear thanks to Harry – and with the board having been informed about what had been going on behind their backs, most of the stress had been dealt with, so there was nothing, really, that could bring the Goblin out into the open.

Except this itch that just wouldn't go away no matter what. Harry was trying to listen to the meeting, to make sure nothing dire had happened during his brief exile from his company¸ and he just couldn't concentrate to save his life. It didn't help that he just didn't know why he was feeling this way. He only ever got like this when something was amiss or wrong, like when your instincts were trying to tell you to shut up or to just reach out and touch…

And then he realized what it was that was making him feel this way. Harry nearly laughed out loud, it was so obvious, right in his face, that he should have figured it out before now. What was making his skin itch and his flesh crawl was Peter. He missed Peter. He really, really missed Peter. That realization was nearly overwhelming. Was this was Peter felt like last night when it finally hit home that they were soul mates? Is this why Peter looked at him as though he was the only person on the planet?

God, Harry was an idiot. How could he have not known what this feeling was? Well, it didn't matter how badly he wanted, needed, to see Peter; he had business to attend to. Even if he didn't, Harry didn't want to see Peter. His instincts were compelling him to see his mate, but he didn't want to, not when he was still pissed.

From within his mind, the Goblin growled, his anger flaring up just enough to let Harry notice it. He frowned and leaned forward in his chair. That had never happened before. The Goblin had never actually growled at him or had been angry at him. Granted, he had only come into being yesterday, but to Harry, it felt as though they had been a part of each other for a life time.

What the hell was going on? Was he going to have to literally argue with himself? As if he didn't have enough problems already…

But the Goblin didn't back down, wouldn't budge an inch. Harry didn't know what to do. Peter had nearly killed him, them, and he was their soul mate. Even if he had been working with Gwen Stacy on a possible cure, his negligence to inform Harry had still nearly killed him. In fact, the Goblin existed because of Peter, and yet, even with all of that, the Goblin was getting angry over the fact that Harry didn't want to see him? Why should Harry want to see him?

Harry could feel the Goblin's anger begin to form into rage and irritation. That was not good, not good at all. He couldn't change into the Goblin, not here, not during a meeting with board members who would have him ousted again if they even thought he was slightly unstable. While he knew what the Goblin wanted, he didn't want to give in; he wasn't ready to forgive Peter just yet.

The Goblin growled again and his green eyes narrowed. Harry shifted in his seat. Seeing Peter didn't mean that he had been forgiven and they both, he, the Goblin, they, knew it. They were soul mates, Harry and Peter, and they needed to be near each other, at least until they could handle being away from each other for extended periods of time. But Harry didn't want to admit it; he didn't want to swallow his pride and confess that he needed Peter. His wounds, the ones Peter had left, were still very raw and bleeding.

However…he needed to quell the itch and he needed to placate the Goblin. Seeing Peter would do that, would fix both problems, and Harry knew that. And, if he were being honest with himself (which he wasn't), Harry wanted to see him too. He couldn't help it. Peter was his mate after all and the need to see him was almost consuming his entire being. It didn't make things better the fact that he had yet to claim Peter as his own, but given the circumstances, Harry thought that that was understandable.

It wouldn't remain that way though. The longer he took to do so, the greater the risk that someone else might make a move on Peter. Such a thought made the Goblin seethe with an anger and possessiveness that would have frightened Harry had he not felt it as well. The person need not be part of the rare breed of soul mating humans to be able to lay a claim. All they needed to do was fuck one part of the pair and then there would be a wedge between the two, especially if both humans knew who their soul mate was. It was hard to follow, Harry knew, and he still didn't understand it. Not many did, not even scientists, because there were so few soul mate pairs out there in this day and age. But what they did know was that if one part of a soul mate had sex with another person who wasn't their soul mate after the initial connection, the scenting, had been made, it caused…problems in the relationship.

Harry had scented Peter last night and although Peter wouldn't do anything with anyone else (of that Harry was certain; Peter, no matter what would happen, would always be Peter), that didn't mean that someone else wouldn't try anything. If that happened, Harry would hunt them down and kill them.

He knew what he had to do and what he wanted to do, although he was reluctant to admit it. Harry needed to go and see Peter after the meeting, no matter what. What happened from there…well, that was yet to be decided. But at least he knew what he was going to do and the Goblin seemed satisfied with that at least, which was a good thing because he could already feel himself calming down. The itch lightened up ever so slightly and became more bearable, more manageable.

All he had to do now was make it through the rest of the meeting and try not to tear the heads off of the idiotic Oscorp board members.

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A/N: Just to that we're all clear, the next chapter has sex in it. I so swear it will.


	7. VII

A/N: I hope none of you are disappointed by this chapter. R&amp;R. Enjoy!

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**VII**

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Peter was lying on his bed in his room, staring at the ceiling. Aunt May was at the hospital and wouldn't be home until later on. That left Peter alone in the house, a house full of memories, and recalling the previous night. So much had happened and in such a short amount of it. It was almost impossible for Peter to even comprehend it all and processing it was still difficult.

He turned on his side and stared at his laptop and desk and the now empty wall behind it. Part of him knew he should be out there right now, slinging his webs from building to building, keeping eye on the city, but he couldn't. Staying inside was hard for him; stopping being Spider Man was hard. It was like a piece of himself had been lost and would never be returned or found.

Speaking of which…

Sighing, Peter closed his eyes and thought about Harry. Harry, who had been his best friend since before he could remember, Harry, who was his soul mate and his second half, would never forgive him for what he had done. Harry, who was the missing piece of his soul, was so angry with him that Peter didn't think things would ever change. Not that he could blame him; he deserved it.

But was it foolish of his to wish things were different? Did he even have that right? Peter knew that he probably didn't, but he couldn't help himself. Harry had always been the one Peter cared about most. Even when he was sent away, Peter couldn't help but worry about him. Now that Harry was back, it seemed as though there was nothing Peter could do for him.

No, that wasn't true. There was something he could do even if Harry still felt the same way towards him as he did now. If Peter returned to the Roosevelt and finished the work he and Gwen had started, perhaps he could have a cure for Harry. And if Harry was himself again and in a right frame of mind perhaps he'd be able to listen to Peter, actually _listen_. Peter may not deserve forgiveness, but he did deserve to be heard.

He just hoped that he'd be able to complete the cure.

There was a reason Gwen was the top student in all of their classes and not him, after all. If anyone could have completed a cure to save Harry's life, it would have been her. But she's dead and she wasn't coming back. As much as it killed Peter to admit that, and doing so was extremely hard on him because she had been one of his best friends, it didn't make it any less true. Gwen's loss…it was a tragedy for everyone who had known her. And without her, Harry was probably going to stay the way he was for the remainder of his days.

Turning back on his back, Peter kept his eyes closed and rubbed his shoulder against his blanket. All day, he's had this itch he couldn't get rid of and it was distracting him from his thoughts, what few he had. Without Gwen and her knowledge, Harry might very well stay the way he was. Peter couldn't give up though. He owed it to Harry. While he may not be Spider Man anymore, he could still do this even if Harry didn't want his help anymore.

And to help Harry, Peter needed to go back down to the Roosevelt. That was where he and Gwen had been working. It reminded him of his father and some of his father's research that had been left behind, notes and the like, Gwen had found useful. He didn't know how much work needed to be completed, but he'd get it done. Somehow, he would get it done.

Rolling off of the bed and grabbing his shoes and his dad's old calculator, full of coins of course, Peter left his room. Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly made his way downstairs and opened the front door to go out-

"Ow!" Peter grunted as he bumped into someone right in front of the door. He nearly fell back but hands managed to grip his shirt and steady him.

"Geez. You're never going to change, are you?" Harry asked him, somehow managing to look both irritated and slightly amused as he gazed at Peter.

All of a sudden, that annoying itch that had been bothering Peter all day vanished. Harry let go of his shirt and they stood there on Peter's porch, staring at each other.

Harry looked…better. Far better than he had last night. He looked normal. Aside from the bags under his eyes, he looked just as he always had. Hell, he looked good, really good. If Peter hadn't been there and witnessed everything himself, he would have wondered if last night had even happened, if that goblin-like creature had really been Harry or not. However, last night had happened and Peter had seen for himself what Harry had looked like then. Now, he looked completely and totally normal.

"Harry…um…what…what are you doin' here?" Peter asked.

"Well…I had an itch that wouldn't go away. And you're the only one who can fix it," Harry replied.

"How?" Peter said.

He honestly had no idea what he could do to stop whatever was bothering Harry. While he could relate to having an itch, his went away when he saw Harry. Peter didn't know if Harry still had his or not, but he wasn't sure what he could do for him to fix that. The only thing Peter knew he could definitely do for Harry was see if he could finish the cure that Gwen had worked so hard on. Doing so could possibly help Harry in the long run.

"For someone so smart you're pretty stupid, aren't you, Peter?" Harry scowled at him. It made Peter sigh and it also made him feel very tired.

"I'd love to help you out, Harry, but I…I gotta go," Peter told him and tried to step past him. But Harry slammed his hands against the door paneling, preventing him from going anywhere.

"You're not going anywhere, Pete," Harry growled, the blue in his eyes slowly turning green.

"But I've got to-"

"The only thing you have to do is get inside the house. Now," Harry said and started forward, causing Peter to stumble back into the house.

Once they were both inside, Harry closed and locked the door. He still looked like himself, but his eyes were green now and he looked…hungry. Starved. It would have frightened Peter had it not excited him even more. Great. As though he didn't have enough problems going on between him and Harry; now he had to go and get turned on by him when he was angry and trying to talk to him.

"Look, Harry, I dunno what you need me to do…but there's somewhere I need to go," Peter said.

"I already told you, Peter. You're not going anywhere," Harry told him and approached him, getting into his personal space. Not that Peter minded. He smelled good, really good, and aside from his eyes, Harry looked perfectly normal.

"Why?" Peter whispered. All of his senses were being overwhelmed by Harry and all Peter wanted to do was reach out and touch him, feel him. They were soul mates after all. But…would Harry even want him to do that?

"Because you're mine, Peter. You're mine and I'm not going to let anyone try and take you from me," Harry snarled, his face starting to contort into that of the Goblin's.

"Take me…? Harry, I don't…get it-"

He was cut off by Harry's lips attacking his own. The kiss was harsh and brutal with a sense of urgency and desperation that nearly knocked Peter to his knees. There was no time to think, though. Harry pushed him back until he fell onto the couch. Climbing on top of him, Harry attacked Peter's neck, sucking and biting on the skin as his hands roamed. Peter couldn't help but moan and wither underneath his mate.

Whatever bad feelings there was between them went out the window. Peter couldn't help himself; he wanted Harry. He wanted everything about him. They were soul mates, after all. It was natural for him to want his soul mate, right? And it was only natural for Harry to want him in return even after all that had happened between them, right?

Peter didn't even realize when Harry had undone the button and zipper of his jeans, but then he felt Harry's bare erection rub against his own and the sensation was incredible. It was nothing like he had ever experienced before and it made him cry out. His fingers dug into Harry's shirt and when Harry claimed his mouth again, he responded eagerly and passionately, not even caring how rough and hard their kisses were. All he knew was that Harry was making him feel really, really good and that he wanted more.

The friction their erections were creating was amazing, but Peter wanted more, needed more. He needed Harry in ways that he couldn't even describe. When Harry pulled away from him and ripped his shirt off of his body with his clawed hands, all Peter could do was pant and release a needy whine. His brain wasn't working; he couldn't even put into words what he was feeling and what he wanted, all he knew was that Harry was the one only who could give it to him.

After Harry had disposed of his own shirt, Peter's brown eyes met Harry's green ones. There was no hatred or anger in those eyes; only the same desire and need that Peter felt, the same hunger and thirst.

Without any warning, Harry delved back down and bit down on the juncture between Peter's neck and shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Peter cried out and Harry licked and sucked on the wound while he tore their pants off with his claws. Once they were both bare, Harry's hands roamed Peter's body. His claws lightly ran all over his body, leaving faint red lines on his flesh.

All Peter could do was gasp ant pant, shudder and moan. Harry was making him feel amazing and creating a fire within him that started to building higher and high with each touch. Their hard cocks rubbed together and only served to making the fire stronger. Peter wondered if Harry was feeling the same things he was. But it wasn't enough. It just wasn't enough!

"H-Harry…" Peter panted as Harry licked and nipped his neck. "P-please…" He didn't even know what he was begging for. All he knew was that he wanted it more than anything.

"Heh… You're mine, Peter," Harry, the Goblin, growled. "Mine."

No more words were spoken. None had to be. Harry turned Peter over onto his stomach and thrust into his body. Peter cried out. The pain he felt was intense, but the pleasure was even more so. It made the pain worth it even when Harry didn't stop, didn't give him any time to relax or adjust to him. He pulled out and pounded back into Peter as though he might never be able to do this again. Gripping Harry's back, his blunt nails digging into his skin, Peter cried out and panted with each thrust. Soon, the pain receded and the pleasure took over completely. The fire that had started was rising even more now and threatened to burn him from the inside out.

Peter had wanted nothing more.

In that moment, everything had been forgotten. Giving up being spider Man. Harry's anger towards him. Electro. Gwen. Everything that had happened last night and in the past few months was forgotten, put out of his mind quite forcibly by Harry. With his mind blank, all Peter could do was hold onto Harry as though his life depended on it and go along for the ride.

When Peter came, his body stilled and shuddered, his eyes wide open and a moan resounding throughout the room. Harry came not long after that, thrusting into him hard one last time and growling as he came. Peter collapsed back onto the couch, his body slick with sweat and his chest rising and falling as his pants left his mouth. He felt Harry relax above him and soon his mate was lying on top of him, his breath ghosting across the top of his ear.

Minutes passed and Peter began to feel his body again, feeling everything. But for once in the past twenty-four hours, he was perfectly happy. Harry was still on top of him and Peter didn't want him to go anywhere, not now, not ever. Wrapping his arms around the older boy, Peter closed his eyes and just allowed himself to relax, to be there with Harry as they were. Time didn't matter. Nothing mattered then. He was completely satisfied and relaxed and he could feel how relaxed Harry was as well. They both needed this. Maybe them having done this despite everything that occurred last night was a good thing.

At least, that's what Peter wanted to believe.

Neither of them spoke. Why did they have to? What was there to say? Words couldn't describe what they had just experienced. It felt as though they had grown together. If that truly did happen, Peter wondered, then maybe there was hope for them as soul mates.

Peter listened to Harry's breathing and enjoyed holding him and having his body on top of his own. He was so wrapped up in that feeling that the sound of the door opening didn't even register.

"Oh, my God! Peter! Harry!" Aunt May's voice cried out.

"Shit!" he swore underneath his breath. He'd catch hell for this. How the hell was he going to explain this to Aunt May?


	8. VIII

A/N: I am so, so sorry that I haven't updated in a while. Work has been chaotic and the overtime I've been getting has been keeping me at bay from my writing. I hope this chapter makes up for it, though. So, let me know what you think! R&amp;R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**VIII**

**~…~**

Peter was sitting in his chair at his desk, staring at anything and everything that wasn't Harry. Harry, on the other hand, was lying on Peter's bed as though he owned it. Not that Peter minded. How could he after having mind-blowing sex with him and then being caught by his aunt? And that had been embarrassing as hell. He was more than sure that his eyes had bulged out of their sockets when he heard her voice.

Falling off of the couch had been a great idea on Peter's part, along with the red faced look and the high, girlish squeal that had emanated from him. Harry, thankfully, actually managed to keep his cool and pulled his pants on, managing to look like a little boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Peter's cookie jar, specifically.

Thankfully, Aunt May rushed past them and into the kitchen, shielding her eyes with her hand and telling them to not mind her and carrying on. She then proceeded to tell Peter that he'd be shampooing her couch tomorrow whether he wanted to or not. After that, Peter ran upstairs, literally, with his clothes in his hand. He could feel Harry's eyes on him all the way to his room and that only made his face turn a darker shade of red. It didn't help matters that Harry all but bent him over his own bed and had him again. Peter wasn't complaining about that, though, except that he'd have to clean his sheets tomorrow along with the couch. And even at – he had to look at the clock – half past midnight, Peter was still feeling it.

It was a good feeling, though, one that he wouldn't pass up when it happened again in the future. If it happened again. He wanted it to happen again. Just thinking about it caused delicious shivers to run down Peter's spine. As much as he wanted it to happen again, right then and there as a matter of fact, Peter had far more important things to think about, such as finishing that cure for Harry.

But in order for him to do that, Peter needed to get to the Roosevelt, to his dad's old lab and the place where all of his and Gwen's research was. Only they had known about it; the only other people who had were dead…

Shaking his head, Peter turned his thoughts away from his parents and to Harry and the cure that still needed to be completed. Right now, lying on his bed, Harry seemed perfectly fine and normal, but Peter knew that that wasn't the case. Inside of his soul mate and long-time best friend was a raging storm, a storm put there by Peter himself. He knew that he couldn't take away the pain and torment Harry was going through nor could he redeem himself for putting it there, but making a cure would still help Harry out. And really, that's all Peter wanted to do: help Harry.

Grabbing his jacket, Peter stood up and shrugged it on while he crammed his feet into his shoes. He couldn't just sit here and think about what he was going to do; he was going to do it. Even if it took him the rest of the night and all day tomorrow, Peter would finish the cure.

"Where do you think you're going?" Harry asked him. Peter turned to him and saw that Harry was staring up at the ceiling.

"Out," Peter replied.

He wasn't sure if Harry would care where he was. Hell, he wasn't even sure if Harry cared about him period and he definitely wasn't sure if he deserved it anyway. Just because they had…grown closer didn't mean that everything would be right as rain. Not even Peter was that delusional.

"Out _where?_" Harry asked him again and sat up, his blue eyes so bright, so beautiful, and yet so deadly, so dangerous.

Peter had two options, two that he knew of and could think of right off the bat. One, he continue lying and insist that he was merely going out, for a walk or something to that extent. Or two, he could tell Harry the truth. He could tell Harry about the Roosevelt, about his dad's research, and that he and Gwen had been working on his cure in the Roosevelt, which was where he was headed now.

Honestly, Peter was getting too used to lying, too used to keeping the people he cared about in the dark. Besides that, Harry deserved to know. Aside from being Peter's soul mate, the cure Peter was working on was for him. It made sense that he ought to know what Peter was up to. And Peter was tired of all of the barriers that were between them already; not telling Harry the truth on something that wasn't even a big deal would only create another one. What was Harry going to do? Forbid Peter from going? Tell him no? Was the Roosevelt even that big of a deal now that Peter's dad was gone?

He doubted it.

Except that it was his dad's and it was currently the place that housed Harry's possible cure.

"Harry, my dad had this…uh...lab," Peter began. His brown eyes watched Harry and he saw that the older boy relaxed somewhat. What had he been thinking Peter was about to tell him? That he was going to a strip club to work? Uh, no, definitely not. (Although that made him wonder for a brief moment how he was going to make money since he was no longer Spider Man and could no longer take pictures of himself).

"And?" Harry arched an eyebrow.

"That's where Gwen and I were working on the cure… I was going to go and see what I can do," Peter explained.

"And where is this lab of yours, Pete? In a garage?" Harry said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. It made Peter smirk ever so slightly.

"No, even better," Peter said. "It's in a rickety, old train car."

"What?" Harry asked. Peter's smirk widened.

"You heard me. The lab is in an old, abandoned train car in an old, abandoned tunnel with small, tight spaces full of webs and spiders and who knows what else," Peter told him, unable to stop enjoying himself. He knew that as a kid Harry hated going into tight spaces that had little to no light and cobwebs. As an adult, he couldn't help but wonder if that had remained the same or not.

Harry stood up and straightened his clothes out. He walked over to Peter's bedroom door and held it open.

"Lead the way," Harry told him. Peter stood there for a moment dumbfounded.

"You're…you're going?" Peter asked, his voice pitching ever so slightly.

"No. I'm just standing here waiting for you after I said, 'Lead the way' because I felt like it," Harry retorted with an eye roll and a shake of his head. "Yes, I'm going!"

"Why?" Peter said before his brain could tell his mouth to shut up. God. Now he sounded like he was hiding something even though he wasn't. He just…wasn't sure how much of a distraction Harry would be if he was there in the lab with Peter. After all, they both still smelled like sex and Peter had just been thinking about it not even fifteen minutes ago.

"Because you're not the only person in this room who has a functional brain. Maybe I could assist you if you need it," Harry told him.

"Huh?" Great. _Good job, Parker. Make yourself look even more like an idiot than you already are_, Peter thought to himself as Harry sighed. His one eye twitched and the annoyance was so obvious on Harry's face that Peter could taste it.

"From what you implied last night, it seems as though Gwen was the one who had been figuring out the formula for this cure of yours," Harry said.

"Yeah…" Peter said softly. It was true; Gwen had had all of the brain power to make a cure for Harry. But she was gone and now it was up to Peter, Peter, who had always placed second. Peter, who couldn't match Gwen's intellect even if he had the mind of Tony Stark.

"Then you may need some help. You're smart, Peter, but you're not Gwen Stacy," Harry said and he turned and walked away.

"Yeah. No one is," Peter mumbled softly to himself.

Leaving his bedroom, he followed Harry down the stairs and out the door. Thankfully, the jacket he had on had a few of those old coins in them; he'd need one to get back into the Roosevelt. Peter hoped that he would be able to make some progress. He really did. As normal as it felt right now between him and Harry, as natural as it was walking beside him down the sidewalk, Peter knew that this peace wasn't permanent, that it wouldn't last, that it would fade.

Harry needed peace. He deserved peace. More so than anyone else Peter knew. Finishing the cure that Gwen had worked so hard on before she died would give him that. Not only would it help Harry, but completing it would be like a final thank you to Gwen and her work, almost like a way to honor Peter's fallen friend.

He just hoped he'd be able to finish it. And, hopefully, hope and even a little faith would be all he'd need.


	9. IX

A/N: What's this? Another chapter update so soon after the last one? Can it be? What is this madness?! Yeah, it's happening, folks. Things are starting to slow down in my life so hopefully that means that I will be updating more frequently. Also, there aren't many chapters left of this story, so you have all been warned. Let me know what you think of this chapter! R&amp;R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**IX**

**~…~**

Harry was sitting on a chair, watching Peter work through half lidded eye lids. They had been here in the Roosevelt since a little after one o'clock in the morning and it was now almost six. Five hours had passed, all but, and so far, Peter hadn't really said anything to him except to ask for one blood sample at about three. What he did with it, Harry didn't know. All he did know was that Peter had been working on whatever cure he and Gwen had been working on and that he was, apparently, getting somewhere. If he hadn't, he would have groaned in frustration or screamed or something that would tell Harry that Peter was angry.

That hadn't happened yet. So, it was only logical to assume that Peter was making some kind of progress however small.

Stifling a sigh, Harry looked around the old train car for the hundredth time. Cobwebs and dust covered almost every surface. It was obvious that the place hadn't been touched in years. The computers were ancient, yet they still functioned perfectly and had retained all of their data. Test tubes were still full of liquids with labels Harry hadn't bothered to read. Notebooks with scribbled notes were lying open on tables. Stick-it notes were still in place, the writing on them incredibly faded but still legible – although Harry thought that that had more to do with the Goblin than his actual natural senses.

With the Goblin now in the forefront of his mind, Harry shifted on his chair and rolled his shoulders. Just like the itch he had had beneath his skin yesterday, Harry was experiencing another itch, only this time, it wasn't the itch that pertained to his need of claiming his soul mate. This time, it was the Goblin wanting to break free, wanting to come out to play. Harry had been keeping him at bay for hours now, but he could feel his control slipping with each passing minute.

Letting the Goblin out wasn't a good thing.

The Goblin, although him, wasn't him. Harry knew it made little sense to anyone; hell, it barely made sense to him! But the Goblin, Harry had concluded before he had made his way to Peter's house, was basically all of the bad things about Harry. He was a separate being but he was Harry. It was kind of like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, only this was more real, more deadly, and far more insane.

Shaking his head, Harry craned his neck back and stared at the ceiling of the train car. He could feel the Goblin scratching for the surface, desperate to come out. Harry had been in control for far too long now; he, the Goblin, they, were a team and team mates took turns.

Harry wasn't stupid nor was he weak. He hadn't forgiven Peter for what he had done and he wouldn't lie and say that he would understand why he had done it someday. However, Harry knew that the Goblin didn't care. He, the Goblin, they, wouldn't kill Peter; Peter was their soul mate, his, theirs, and they wouldn't and couldn't kill him. But that didn't mean that the Goblin would be nice to him or wouldn't harm him in some way, be it physically or psychologically.

His grudge against Peter was still strong and thinking about how close his soul mate had allowed him to come to death still sparked a raging fire beneath his skin, but Harry was coming back. Slowly, but surely, Harry was starting to feel more like he used to before his father passed way, before all of this ever happened.

Twitching once, Harry leaned forward again and pressed his forehead against the back of the chair. His finger nails dug into the back and his body tensed. He was losing control. He wasn't all there. Harry was coming and going and the Goblin was fighting for his freedom, and he was winning. It was getting too much for him to bear. His thoughts weren't making sense anymore; they hadn't been for the past two days, but this…this was worse. Trying to remember what he had thought about Peter and their situation before was like trying to think about a memory from when he was a baby: impossible.

His blood itched in his veins. Hell, his entire body was itching and burning. The Goblin wanted to be free, he didn't want Harry to hold him back. It had been far too long since he had last had fresh air and the Goblin didn't like that. Not one bit. But Harry didn't want to give in. The thought of someone or something controlling him, even if it was him, was pissing him off. Even through all of the confusion and agony he was feeling, that one thought still remained, that one emotion: anger.

"Peter," Harry growled softly, his voice sounding like a grotesque mixture of his own voice and the Goblin's. But Peter didn't seem to notice; he didn't even turn around from where he was working.

"Yeah, Har?" Peter asked. Harry couldn't help but like that Peter had used the old nickname, even though he was still angry at Peter, even though now was definitely not the time to think about that or about their relationship.

Harry knew what the Goblin wanted. The Goblin wanted Peter and in ways that made even Harry's stomach churn, and Harry was still pissed at his soul mate.

"Give…give me…" Harry knew he would be taking a huge risk.

He could even die. Harry had had enough of dying and almost dying. But Harry didn't want to lose control of himself, any part of himself. And that included all of the bad things; that included the Goblin. The Goblin didn't want the cure; he wanted things to remain the way they were. However, Harry didn't want that. The Goblin may have given him enhanced strength and senses and he may have cured Harry and saved him from death, but that didn't mean that Harry wanted him around. He didn't want to be out of control and he didn't want to constantly fight to maintain control.

Things would not get better.

If he gave in, Harry would lose himself.

Part of Harry wanted to be lost, Harry wanted to just drown.

But Osborns didn't give up.

They didn't roll over for anyone.

They didn't submit to anyone.

They didn't fail.

They kept their cool.

They maintained control.

And they always got what they wanted.

Harry wasn't going to lose, not to the Goblin, not to himself.

Even through the clouded haze, he knew that one thing. Nothing was making sense, though. His emotions were a gigantic, jumbled, confused mess. His thoughts, even more so. It was difficult for him to tell who he even was anymore: himself or the Goblin.

Roaring in frustration, Harry rose from his chair, knocking it over and causing it to slam against the table behind it violently. Peter turned around, an alarmed and worried expression on his face. Harry wondered for a moment if Peter would try and stop him, but then he remembered that Peter had given up on being Spider Man. Spider Man was no more. Harry had gotten what he had wanted. Now, there was only Peter.

But that didn't matter, not right now. What did matter was that Harry needed the cure, he needed to gain control once again. It was a desperate need that was tearing him apart from the inside out, literally and figuratively. He couldn't bear it anymore.

Knocking Peter out of his way, Harry grabbed the capsule that held the liquid that could either be his salvation or his demise. The liquid was clear and it looked like nothing more than water. The computer screen behind it was showing algorithms and codes and strands of DNA that Harry didn't even bother to pay any attention to. It was now or never.

Now or never.

"Harry! NO!" Peter called out.

Now or never.

Without another thought, Harry upended the capsule and swallowed the unfinished cure.

Silence fell. Peter was screaming, but Harry couldn't hear him. He couldn't hear anything. But everything was crystal clear. All of his anger, all of his hatred, all of his sorrow and regret, were gone. Harry felt light as a feather. Everything around him seemed bright and clean and new.

And then, the world went pitch black and he collapsed on the floor.

**~…~**

When Harry opened his eyes, he realized that he was standing upright. Darkness, a constant, unending blackness, was all around him, surrounding him, encasing him, and going on forever and ever. It was just him in the darkness. Just him and nothing and no one else.

Or so he thought.

"Hello, Harry," seethed a rough, hoarse voice.

Turning back and staring dead ahead in front of him, Harry saw that he was no longer alone as he was a moment ago. Standing right in front of him, looking bigger, stronger, and far more menacing than Harry remembered, was the Goblin. Clad in his armor with his clawed fingers twitching and his teeth bared in a threatening grin, the Goblin looked just like a villain out of someone's worst nightmares.

And he was Harry. He was the worst part of Harry. And judging by the look on his face, the Goblin wanted him dead.


	10. X

A/N: Oh yeah, Harry is going to fight himself. Will he win or will the Goblin win? I guess you'll just have to find out. R&amp;R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**X**

**~…~**

For the first time in a long time, Harry was finally thinking clearly, rationally. It was as though he had been kept in the dark and was now finally seeing the light. Everything that had transpired since he had returned to New York City – even before that, when his symptoms had first appeared as a matter of fact – he could see it all so clearly. There was nothing poisonous in his system now; no alcohol, no spider venom, no Goblin. Harry was just himself now, just Harry, but the memories were still there. All that he had said and done was still there, still in his mind and in his heart, but he could think clearly.

Harry had been a mad man.

Well, perhaps not mad exactly, but he had been acting out of hatred and fear. Hatred of his father, of being cast aside, of being treated like a criminal by his father and his company's board, and his hatred of Peter. Fear of dying, of deteriorating like his father, of losing his mind and himself, of being alone, and of ruining everything, like his relationship with Peter.

But Harry could see now, and he saw what Peter had been doing. Peter may not have been willing to give Harry his blood outright – and his reasons for doing so were reasonable and logical; who knew what could have happened if Peter had handed over his blood, especially when Harry had no clue what exactly he was doing? – but he had been working on a cure. Peter and Gwen had been working on a cure, on the very thing Harry had asked for.

Gwen…

Harry had killed Gwen, one of Peter's best friends. He was responsible for killing his soul mate's friend. That very thought damn near made him sick. Actually, he did feel sick; his stomach was churning and toiling and he felt nauseated.

He had also killed Menken, and although Harry had never liked the guy, he couldn't believe he had done so. Harry wasn't a murderer; that wasn't who he was. Yet, that was what he had become and it made him sick.

And Harry had pinned everything he had done on Peter, on his soul mate. As rare as they were, how could Harry do that? Regardless of how common or rare soul mated pairs were, how could he have done that to Peter, the only friend he had ever had, the only family he had ever had? All that he had done he forced upon Peter's shoulders and as a result, Peter gave up on being Spider Man and had rushed to finish the cure that he and Gwen had started, which Harry foolishly took even though it wasn't completed.

Now, he was here, wherever 'here' was, surrounded by darkness, in an arena full of darkness, and was standing against the Goblin. The Goblin, who was the physical embodiment of Harry's hatred, rage, and fear. And they were fighting.

Only one could win.

Only one would win.

Harry.

Or the Goblin.

"You're too distracted!" the Goblin cried and he punched Harry hard in the stomach. Gasping, Harry fell to the ground, clutching his stomach.

He barely managed to avoid the next blow by rolling to the side. The Goblin's fist slammed into the ground and Harry could see the contours of broken ground, darkness with darkness.

"You really think you can beat me?" the Goblin sneered at him. Harry managed to stand up and block another blow, this time to his head. He hadn't had to use any of his self-defense training before and now he had wished he had kept up with it.

"I…have to," Harry ground out and he swung his fist towards the Goblin's face. His punch was dodged and the Goblin countered with his own, nailing Harry in the jaw.

"You won't," the Goblin said, smiling wickedly, menacingly. "You're too weak, too pathetic. I'm stronger."

A punch to the stomach again. Harry fell to his hands and knees, gasping and panting in pain, his vision blurring.

"Smarter."

A kick to the stomach and Harry fell to the side, eyes screwed tight in pain.

"Superior."

Another kick.

"Better."

Harry couldn't give up. He refused. Osborns didn't give up or surrender. They fought, they survived, they persevered, they came out on top always. Defeat was shameful and humiliating, two words that weren't in an Osborn's vocabulary. No, they fought to the end even if the end meant their own death. There was nothing to fear except himself. He was his own greatest enemy. Losing wasn't an option.

Suddenly, Harry felt himself being pulled up and away from the darkness and the arena and the Goblin. Bright light bore down on him for a very brief second and Harry could see, in that second, that he was in a clean, white room. He couldn't hear and everything was blurry. Everything but Peter.

Peter was there, staring down at him with doe brown eyes full of worry, concern, fear, and hope. Hope for Harry, that he would be alright. Where he was and how longer he'd already been there, Harry didn't know. But what he did know was that Peter was with him and that he had hope and faith in Harry.

"Harry," Peter said, sounding so very far away even though he was right there. If Harry reached out, he could touch him, but he couldn't move.

Just as soon as the vision or whatever the hell it was had appeared, it dissipated and vanished into thin air. While it didn't make sense to Harry, it had left him feeling rejuvenated and refreshed, feeling healthy and fit and energized. The Goblin was grinning at him with sharp teeth and an air full of arrogance, pacing back and forth like a predator that had cornered its prey.

Harry was no one's prey.

"You're little disappearing act isn't going to work on me, Harry," the Goblin sneered at him. "You're going to lose. You're not going to defeat me."

"You're a cocky shit," Harry growled and he lashed out. He seemed and felt faster and stronger and his punch actually landed. It connected with the Goblin's nose and the sickening crack that Harry heard told him that it was broken.

"Argh!" the Goblin growled as he stumbled backwards. Harry continued in on him, punching him and kicking him in such rapid succession that it was almost inhuman.

"You think you're better than everyone," Harry snarled.

A dagger appeared on the darkened arena floor beside him and he picked it up. Another one materialized by the Goblin and when he reached for it, Harry attacked. He drew the dagger down and it hit the Goblin's arm, slicing him and causing him to bleed. As his blood trickled down onto the ground, Harry could vaguely feel the sting of the wounds pain, as though the Goblin were his twin and he could feel what the other felt only not as strongly. That's when he realized…

"No. You're not arrogant. You don't think you're superior than everybody else," Harry said as he stood over the Goblin, who was glaring up at him with so much hatred that it was almost palpable. "You don't think you're stronger, smarter, or better."

"_I_ do," Harry said and as the Goblin stood up, Harry forced the dagger into his gut. The Goblin gasped and the thick wad of blood spurted from his lips and coated Harry's shirt.

"_I_ think I'm smarter than everyone," Harry said and he withdrew the dagger and stabbed the Goblin again. Blood began pouring from his mouth slowly, coloring his lips and teeth red.

"_I_ think I'm stronger," Harry continued and stabbed the Goblin again. The Goblin fell to his knees and gasped. His eyes looked distant and his body was trembling so much that it caused the dagger's handle in Harry's hand to vibrate.

"_I'm _arrogant and cocky and foolish and self-centered," Harry said and he withdrew his blade and sunk it into the Goblin's stomach one final time. He gasped and collapsed against Harry, the blood flowing from his lips coating his shirt, staining it red. And all the while, Harry could vaguely feel the pain the Goblin felt, but he knew that it was a necessary pain.

"I need to control them, to control _you_. And I will," Harry finished. He pulled the dagger out and threw it off into the never-ending darkness. His hands were coated with blood as was his shirt, but he knew that the Goblin wasn't dead. He wouldn't die until Harry did because _he_ was a part of Harry and not the other way around.

"You…you can't…kill…me," the Goblin gurgled, spitting blood as he spoke.

"I know that. I don't want to. You're a part of me and you can't get rid of parts of yourself no matter how much you want to," Harry replied. "But I control you. You don't control me. You're a part of me and you always will be. That's how it is and that's how it's going to stay."

Harry now had his resolve and it wasn't going to bend or break. Not now, not ever.

The Goblin's body began to feel light and Harry watched as he began to fade away and disappear into nothing. He chuckled as he faded away and within seconds he was gone and only Harry remained. There was no more Goblin; there was just Harry.

A heavy feeling settled into Harry's chest and he knew that he had gained control of the Goblin at long last. The feeling was bitter sweet. After all, the Goblin was the embodiment of all of Harry's negativity, but at least Harry had gained control of it, of them, of him, and he could think clearly and rationally once again even with those feels inside of him.

Standing up, Harry stared into the darkness. His body felt sore and bruised and he knew that he had bruises where the Goblin's hit had landed. Moving one leg, he winced at how stiff it was and he knew that he'd be in pain for a while. However, he didn't think that that mattered too much at the moment. What did matter, though, was one thing and one thing only:

How the hell was he going to get out of this unending darkness?


	11. XI

A/N: Including this chapter, there are only two left, meaning there's only one more after this. So get ready to say good-bye, my friends. All good things must come to an end, after all, and all that jazz and crap. Well, here's the latest chapter. Let me know what you think. R&amp;R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**XI**

**~…~**

It had been almost three weeks. Three weeks since Harry and Peter had gone to the Roosevelt. Three weeks since Harry had ingested the unfinished cure. Three weeks since he had fallen to the ground unconscious. Three weeks since he had last been awake.

Peter had been at the hospital every single day, watching over Harry for as long as possible. He even cut classes to be there, but he had stopped that when Aunt May had caught him and gotten a hold of him - literally. She had grabbed his ear so hard that he legit thought it would fall off from the sheer force of her grip. After yelling at him for good five minutes straight and then collapsing in the chair beside Harry's hospital bed crying, Peter had promised Aunt May that he'd start going to his classes again. And he had kept his promise, but he would always go to the hospital right after he was done with classes.

While he knew that there was nothing he could do, Peter still went there and stayed by Harry's side. He knew that Harry was still alive; he could feel it, deep down in his soul. Everything within just knew that Harry was still alive, still hanging on there, but he just couldn't wake up. The doctors and nurses could give an explanation for it; all they said was that Harry was in perfect health. He just wouldn't wake up. So at least Harry was healthy, which meant that the unfinished cure had worked, if not in the way Peter had hoped.

At least Peter could be happy that Harry was fine as far as body health, but he wished there was something he could do to help bring him back. He had never heard of anything like this happening. All of the books, online articles, websites, couldn't give him any explanation or way to snap Harry out of this and wake him up. And Peter had no one to go to. Aunt May had no idea why Harry wouldn't wake up because his coma didn't make sense with a poisoning - because that's what the doctors concluded had happened. They had found small amounts of spider blood in Harry's bloodstream and had concluded that he had been poisoned, which, technically, they weren't that far off. But it hadn't killed him; actually, and much to the amazement of the medical staff, it had improved his health and cured him. That being said, the doctors had told Peter and Aunt May, Harry should have woken up as his body was healthy and fully functioning. But, they had also told him that comas weren't uncommon with poisonings and that all Harry needed was medical attention and time.

Well, he had had the attention for three weeks and he had had the time, yet he still hadn't woken up.

"Peter," Aunt May said softly. Startled, he jumped up in his chair and looked up to see his aunt standing in the doorway.

She looked worried and Peter felt a pang of guilt stab his heart. He hadn't really been home in the past three weeks and when he had, he wasn't able to sleep very well and he didn't eat as much. Although he tried to sleep and eat, he just couldn't, not while he was too worried about Harry and trying to come up with solutions to get him to wake up.

"Y-yeah, Aunt May?" Peter said, standing up and walking over to her. She drew him into a hug, squeezing him and holding onto him as though he might disappear before her very eyes. When she pulled back, she stared at him for a minute before she answered him.

"Peter, you look so tired and...worn out. You need to get some fresh air," Aunt May told him. Peter shook his head and turned to look at Harry, who hadn't moved an inch in three weeks.

"I can't just leave him alone, Aunt May," Peter said. "What if he wakes up and I'm not here?"

"That's why I'm here, Peter. In case he does wake up and you're out," Aunt May said, and sternly added, "Now go out and get some fresh air for once. I'll do you some good and I bet Harry would want you to be refreshed too."

He was about to object, but Peter couldn't. Aunt May was right. He hadn't gotten a lot of fresh air along with sleep or food and if Harry woke up, he'd probably be pissed at Peter for looking like hell. Nodding, he gave his aunt a weak smile and left the room. Making his way down the hallway and through the double doors, Peter quickly left the hospital and stepped outside.

It was a bright and sunny day. Rays of sunlight lit up the grass, the leaves on the trees, the drying puddles of water - when did it rain? Last night? The day before? Peter couldn't remember; he hadn't really thought of anything aside from Harry in the past couple of weeks. Whether it rained or not didn't matter; being outside did feel nice, but Peter couldn't help but feel more restless and on edge now that he was away from Harry.

Harry was his soul mate after all and having him in the condition he was in was...difficult. Leaving him by himself, regardless of it Aunt May was there or not, was hard. Peter didn't like being away from him, just in case something happened. His instincts were telling him that he needed to be there to protect Harry, even though he had no idea what he could do. It's not like he could use his powers; he had given them up when he gave up being Spider Man.

Sighing loudly, Peter sat down on the park bench, thankful that there was a nearby park and that it was mostly uninhabited. With his elbows resting on his knees and his hands hiding his face, Peter leaned forward and started through his fingers at the dirt ground below. His mind was blank and he hated it. He needed to think, damn it! Harry was depending on him to find a way out of this mess, a mess that Peter had created.

"You look a little tired, kid," said a voice from above him. Rising his hand, Peter stared at the stranger. He was dressed in a suit and had dark brown, maybe black, hair with facial hair to match. Although he looked familiar, Peter couldn't put a name with a face.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Peter said, laughing humorlessly a couple of times as he sat up and leaned against the park bench. The older man sat down on the bench beside him.

"Well, I know that when I can't sleep it's usually because I'm working on a very important problem," the man told him. "So, what's your problem, kid?"

"My name's not 'kid'. It's Peter. Peter Parker," Peter said.

"Okay, Peter. Tell me what's eatin' you," the man said.

While Peter had no idea who the guy was - even though he definitely looked familiar - something inside of him told him that he could trust this guy. And didn't they say that it was easier to talk to a stranger, an outsider, about your problems since they could provided an outsider's perspective? With that in mind, Peter began to tell the older man everything. He told him about Harry, about being soul mates, about Harry dying and how he had begged Peter for a cure, about how he and his friend Gwen, who was now dead, had been working on one until shit hit the fan. Peter told him about how Harry had caused a lot of bad things to happen and that Gwen's death had been a result of that; he told him about how it had all been Peter's fault because he hadn't helped Harry out when he had asked and hadn't even told him he was working on a cure and that that caused Harry to act out; he told him about how he brought Harry to his place where he was working on the cure and that Harry had ingested it even though it wasn't done; and he ended his story with Harry having been in the hospital for three weeks now unconscious, healthy, but never opening his eyes, never waking up.

"Well, that was a mouthful," the man said. Peter laughed once and nodded.

"Yeah. Sorry for dumping that all on you," he replied. "I usually don't. I just..."

"Needed someone to spill to. Yeah, I know. I've been there; done that and all that jazz," the man said.

"To start off with, this Harry kid is a spoiled brat," the older man told Peter. That caused Peter to really laugh.

"He can be. He is an Osborn, but he's not a bad person," Peter explained.

"Of course he isn't. He can't be when he's got someone like you. But, people never really appreciate things until they're about to die. Either that, or they get desperate, willing to do anything to stay alive. And that's where mistakes are made," the man replied, his brown eyes meeting Peters and conveying that everything he was saying was from personal experience and that his words weren't just hot air.

"However, when all is said and done, those mistakes that are made...he'll try to fix them. Because that's what we do as humans: we spend all of our time fixing mistakes, both that we caused and from other people," the man told him. "You might think that he hates you, but he loves you. In order for someone to be that mad at you, they have to really care about you and love you to feel like that. This Harry guy doesn't hate you, Peter, he's just hurting very badly and it's even worse because he loves you and, in away, you did let him down. You definitely should have told him about the cure, but how were you to know he wouldn't have done what he had done and take the cure before it was even ready?"

The man sighed and he suddenly looked far older than what he was - which seemed to be late thirties or maybe early forties. Peter watched him quietly, taking in every word, listening to this man's wisdom carefully.

"Harry can't severe your soul ties even if he tried. You two are together for a reason. There's always a reason for everything," the man said. "I, too, have a soul mate. You and I are a lot alike, Peter."

"You're part of a soul mate pair too," Peter asked, amazed.

"Yeah, I am. But I had had no idea I was for a very long time. I thought that I was like everybody else on the planet. And then I found him. My soul mate, I mean," the man explained to Peter. "Afte waiting all of my life for someone who was suitable to my personality, I had finally found him. But I still had to wait because he needed to wake up from his slumber - Sleeping Beauty what he is - and even after that, I still had to wait."

"Why?" Peter said softly.

"Because he was raised to be...uh...very old fashioned. In other words, he didn't believe that men should be together in a relationship. And it took him a long time to get through that and understand that, in this day and age, it was okay for men to be together and that he couldn't reject our bond because it was a soul connection and not something so easily cast aside like mere human infatuation," the man responded. "He came around eventually, but he's still not up to date on the world."

Peter could only nod, having no idea what to say.

"The point with my story is that things are going to happen between you and your soul mate, but you're both going to have to learn to forgive each other for everything that has and will happen," the older man said. "Storm clouds always go away after a while. It's just a part of life."

Peter remained silent for a minute before he looked at the man and said, "There's nothing to forgive. I just...wish I could tell him that." The man stood up and Peter followed suit, turning to face him.

"I don't have a concrete answer as to why Harry won't wake up, but if you two truly are soul mates, you should be able to bring him back," the man told him.

"How?" Peter asked, having no idea how he could bring Harry back or what he could even do or where to start.

"Use your soul ties, Peter," the man said and gave him a smile and a confident clap on the side of his arm. "It was nice to meet you, Peter Parker. I'll see you around, kid." And with that, the man turned and walked away.

Peter stared after him as he went and then he turned and started towards the hospital. If the man was right, then Peter had a feeling about how he could bring Harry back, but he needed to get to his room first. Not only did he need to see Harry, but he didn't want Aunt May to worry about him. Then it hit him, why the strange man looked so familiar, and he stopped and turned in the direction the man went.

"Holy shit," Peter mumbled to himself. "That was Tony Stark."


	12. XII

A/N: Well, it's been a fun ride. I had a great time writing these chapters. I wrote the ending before I even started this story, actually. XD And it's nice to see how it's all come together. I hope that you've all enjoyed reading this as I've enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you all think of the final chapter. R&amp;R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**XII**

**~…~**

It was late at night. Darkness shrouded the world just outside of Harry's hospital room window. Not even the stars could be seen, but then, they were a rare sight in the city.

Peter shouldn't have been in the room. Visiting hours had long ago and he'd be in big trouble with both the hospital staff and Aunt may if he was found. But thanks to his spider powers, Peter had managed to enter the room through the window and allowed him to be silent and agile. They also allowed him to hang upside down from the ceiling of the room while he thought about how to bring Harry back. He doubted that any of the staff would look up and if they did, he'd be able to escape through the window in the blink of an eye.

Tony had been right; the only way for Peter to bring Harry back to the waking world was through their soul mate bond. He just needed to figure out how. How could he use his and Harry's bond to bring him back? What was it that he needed to do?

Sighing in frustration, Peter ran a hand through his unkempt hair and gripped his jeans in his clenched fists. This was beginning to seriously piss him off. Harry needed his help and he couldn't figure out for the life of him what the hell to do! Use their soul ties? How, damn it?!

Peter gazed down at Harry, frowning. Harry looked so pale and childlike, lying there in that hospital bed, unmoving, so unlike the Harry that he had known. Vulnerable and frail were not words Peter would usually associate with an Osborn, but right now, in that hospital bed, they suited Harry perfectly. And that wouldn't do. Harry needed to come back. Now that he was healthy, he deserved a chance at life and Peter needed to give that to him.

Closing his eyes, Peter began to think about Harry. They had known each other since they were little kids. Harry had been his only friend in the entire world; even when he had moved away, Peter had still considered him his best friend. Aunt May and Uncle Ben would always ask him if he had heard from him when he was in high school, figuring that Harry had Facebook. He didn't; Peter had checked several times. But he would see photos of Harry in magazines and he could always tell, in each and every picture, that his longtime friend hadn't been happy at all.

Peter had always been able to tell when Harry was happy or when he was sad or upset. It had been like that since the first day and it was still like that even now. When he was happy, Harry's brilliant, bright blue eyes would light up and seemed to be luminescent and a smile, a real, genuine smile that caused his dimples to show and the corners of his eyes to crinkle, would spread across his face. Seeing Harry happy was a sight to behold and seeing him laugh, really and truly laugh, was just as breathtaking. Such a sight always made Peter's heart beat faster and tinted his cheeks and ears red.

But when Harry had been sad, it was like every cloud in the sky, even on the bright and sunny days, would be dark and gray and full of rain. A frown on Harry's face made him look far older than he actually was and his eyes would give you the feeling that he had life experience that few would possess at such a young age. And his anger…his anger had always been dangerous, flaring to a fever pitch one minute to a calm before the storm the next. It had always been unstable, but Peter had figured that given who Harry was, an Osborn, he had had to hide his emotions from the world and doing that made things hard to handle and control at times. Harry had never been one to get angry often – he was pretty laid back considering that he was an Osborn – and when he did, it was never a fun time for anyone.

Thankfully, Harry had never really been angry with Peter when they were young. No, his anger had usually been directed towards his father and to the bullies who would always torment Peter in school. Even when they were kids, Harry had been protective and possessive, ready to open his mouth at any given moment if he believed someone needed to be put in their place. Of course, his insults were cunning and clever, just like Harry, and not many people, side from Peter, could even understand what he was saying exactly, but it was still obvious that he was throwing an insult or two around.

Man, but they had had a lot of great times together. They often played outside, climbing trees, exploring parks, climbing over rocks; the usual kid stuff. They would play fort at their 'secret base', which was just a cluster of boulders in one of the parks or something; Peter couldn't really remember exactly. And when they would climb trees, they would push each other to go as high as they could and when Peter would get scared of falling, Harry would reassure him that if he did, Harry would catch him or fall with him so that they could fall together. Always together; they were always together.

On the rainy days, Harry would come over to Peter's house – because Aunt May and Uncle Ben were more like his family than his own father was – and they would play video games or have movie marathons. Uncle Ben would make them popcorn and the three of them would sit on the couch and watch all kinds of movies – from _Indiana Jones_ to _The Land Before Time_. It didn't matter because they always had a good time. And on days that it wasn't raining and Harry would be spending the night, Uncle Ben and Aunt May would make a fire out back and they would roast hotdogs on sticks and then make s'mores once they were done eating. Peter's family may not have been rich, but they had fun, and Harry had been there to have fun with them.

Peter had always been the happiest when he was with Harry, though. When they were kids and Harry would go away with his father while they were on summer vacation, Peter would mope around and say very little all day as he helped out Aunt May or Uncle Ben. And when Harry would come back, Peter would hug him as though he'd never see him again and his smile would be a mile wide. Harry would hug him back and hold him tight, telling Peter how dreadful of a time he had had and that he never wanted to go anywhere without Peter ever.

But then, when Harry was eleven and Peter was ten, Harry's father had sent him off to some European boarding school and they had been separated. The heartache Peter had felt had been nearly overwhelming. He hadn't been the same person when Harry had been forced to go away. It had felt like a part of himself had disappeared with Harry and that he wasn't a whole person anymore. It was like Harry had taken his soul with him when he had left.

Now, Peter knew why. He knew why he had felt that way and why, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't be with anyone who wasn't Harry. Gwen had been interested in him, Peter knew, but when he explained to her why he couldn't be with her, she understood and instead they became close friends. But Gwen had never known Peter like Harry had. Harry could practically read his thoughts at any given moment.

And when Harry had returned, Peter finally felt like he was a whole person again. It was as though he had finally remembered who he was. Then, when he saw Harry smile at the top of the stairwell, Peter's heart soar and had sung a thousand songs…

Suddenly, Peter felt himself soaring. Not falling, soaring. Actually, he was wrong. He wasn't soaring. More like floating. Yeah, he was floating, surrounded by complete and utter darkness. Peter knew that he was no longer in the waking world. If he was, then he'd be on the floor and in the light of the hospital, but he wasn't. Therefore, he had to have been somewhere else. But where? He didn't know. All he knew was that he could feel Harry all around him and he knew – although he didn't know how – that Harry was here with him.

Harry's presence increased and Peter felt as though he was close enough to touch him. Looking down from his floating place, Peter gasped. Below him, sitting on the darkness with his arms wrapped around his knees, was Harry. He looked lost and alone, but alive and healthy and free, not at all like the goblin-like creature he had been turning into.

"Harry!" Peter called out happily, excited and truly happy to see his soul mate. Harry's head snapped up and his blue eyes met Peter's brown ones.

"Peter?" he asked and stood up. His expression was one of astonishment and amazement. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to bring you back home, Harry," Peter told him and held out his hand. "Come with me."

"Peter…" Harry began, suddenly looking tired and far older than twenty. "I'm better now, Pete. I'm…thinking rationally and clearly again, but…but I know…" His face contorted into one of pain and suffering and Peter felt his own heart twist at the sight. "I know the…the things I've…done. I can…see them clearly…Peter, I…"

"No, Harry, no. That…that wasn't you, Harry. That wasn't you," Peter said, shaking his head. He knew that the things Harry had done hadn't really been Harry. Harry hadn't really been himself and that was because he had been desperate to live. So the things he had done hadn't really been done by Harry-Harry, but by overly-stressed-out-and-on-the-verge-of-dying-Harry.

"Yes, it was, Peter. It was part of me! I…part of me…did things, killed people, Peter," Harry said and tears began to well up in his eyes. "I'm a bad person, Peter. I may be better and thinking clearly, but I still did those things. That's not going to change."

"Harry, you weren't in your right mind. You were dying, Harry, and you did what you thought you had to to live," Peter countered, his eyes pleading for Harry to understand. "You only did what you thought you had to to survive. That's understandable. Anyone would have done it; _I _would have done it, so please, Harry…don't punish yourself."

"But Peter-!"

"Harry, don't you think you've already punished yourself enough?" Peter asked him. "Come back home, Harry. Come back to me, with me. Please, Harry. I…I love you and I need you to come back." He could feel his own tears welling up in his eyes and they clouded his vision.

Even with his clouded vision, Peter could see Harry nod and he smiled through his tears when Harry finally took his hand.

"Okay, Pete," he said, his voice thick and muddled with emotion and tears. "Let's go back."

Peter felt himself floating back and up and away. Harry's hand slipped from his own and he heard Harry gasp. Just as Peter was about to call back to him, a white-silvery thread sprouted from his hand and shot down to Harry.

"Grab it, Harry! Grab it and follow it back!" he called out to him, his voice sounding far away even to his own ears. Harry was getting smaller and smaller.

"I will! I've got it!" he heard Harry shout back, also sounding so very distant. "I'll follow it back home!"

Harry's silhouette gradually became smaller and smaller and then Peter couldn't see him at all. The darkness was whited out by a strong surge of light and then just as suddenly as Peter had entered the strange, dark world, he was back in his body in the real world. Light shone down from the lights that sat beside his body from the ceiling and illuminated the room. Somehow, Peter had remained on the ceiling even though he had been outside of his body. That was what that was, wasn't it? An out of body experience? His soul had gone and found Harry's, right? He wasn't just insane and imagining things, right? He hadn't been dreaming, right?

Gently, quietly, Peter landed on the cleaned and polished floor of Harry's hospital room and stared at him, holding his breath. He watched as Harry's chest suddenly rose, as though he was taking a deep breath, and then fell. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry opened his eyes. They were slow and groggy as they travelled around the room, but when they landed on Peter, they recognized him instantly and lit up. A small, tired smile appeared on Harry's face.

"Hey," Harry said, his voice sounding dry and scratchy. It had been three weeks since he had last spoken, after all.

"Hey," Peter replied, smiling.

"I love you too, by the way," Harry said. Peter's smile widened and he laughed.

**~…~**

"I met someone," Peter said suddenly as he sat on the edge of Harry's office desk. "You know, while you were out."

They were in Harry's office at the OsCorp building. It had been two weeks since Harry had returned to his own body and twelve days since he had been released from the hospital.

"You did?" Harry asked as he read through the last file that needed to be approved before ending his shift. His eyes briefly looked up at Peter and it was obvious that he didn't like where this conversation might go. He was still as possessive now as he had been when they were kids and Peter liked that. He liked that a lot.

"Yep. He's a little older than us. Well, a lot actually," Peter said. "He reminded me of you: brilliant, rich, stubborn…"

"I see," Harry mumbled, his posture stiff.

"I told him about us," Peter said.

"Oh," was all Harry had to say. He was still sorting through all of the things that had happened since his return to the city. Peter was helping him out as much as he could, and that was part of the reason why he was telling Harry about this.

Tony, the familiar stranger he had spoken to at the park, had sent him an email – how the hell did he even get Peter's email, by the way? – telling him that if he ever needed any help, that all he had to do was ask. Well, Peter had asked Tony if he could do anything to help Harry out, considering he was still having a very hard time sorting through everything. Oh, his soul mate put up a good front, but Peter knew Harry. It was a façade he was familiar with and Harry needed help. Tony, Peter believed, could help.

"After he called you a spoiled brat, he told me that people never appreciated anything unless they were dying. That, or they get desperate, willing to do anything to stay alive. He said that you'll make mistakes and that eventually you'll do whatever you can to try and fix them," Peter continued.

"Is that all?" Harry huffed.

"No, it's not. He said that I might think that you hate me, but that you really do love me because in order for you to have been as angry as you were, you had to have been hurting really bad. Because you love me and I let you down. And he said that even if you did try to severe our soul ties, you wouldn't be able to because we're together for a reason," Peter explained to him, sliding off of the desk and approaching Harry. Harry had stopped his work and had turned his full attention to Peter, his blue eyes wide.

"And he also told me about his soul mate. About how he thought he wasn't one of the lucky ones to have one because there was no spark between him and anyone else. When he did find his soul mate, he had to wait for him to wake up – literally – and he still had to wait for him because his soul mate didn't accept them or their bond. Not at first. After that, he said that you and I would have to learn to forgive each other. For everything. And that storm clouds always went away after a while." Peter paused and crouched down in front of Harry, taking his hands in his own.

Harry's blue eyes were brightly lit by tears and he looked so pale and afraid. Peter hated seeing him like that.

"But I told him…"

"You told him what?" Harry croaked out, his voice sounding thick. He surprised Peter by not letting any of his tears falls.

"I told him that there was nothing to forgive. Because I want all of you: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Even though I don't deserve it, I still want it because…well…because we match. A perfect fit," Peter told him, giving Harry an encouraging smile.

"Well," Harry said, "that was a marvelous pep talk." Peter frowned.

"I was being serious," he said.

"I know, I know," Harry said, laughing slightly. Peter squeezed his hands and looked down, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Listen…I'll understand if you…y'know…need time. I mean, I did put you through all of this," Peter mumbled.

"No, Peter," Harry corrected him gently. "I did this to myself. And I've had over a month of time. I don't need anymore."

Silence reigned down upon them for a few minutes. The only sounds that could be heard was the computer and the noise from the streets far below. Finally, Harry broke the silence.

"Do…do _you_ hate me, Peter?" he asked. At the unexpected question, Peter shook his head.

"No, Harry, and I never did. Nor do I blame you for anything," Peter reassured him.

"I…I know that but…I want you to know that…I am sorry," Harry told him. Neither of them spoke for a few moments after that. When Peter spoke up, though, he smiled and pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead.

"Love means never having to say you're sorry, Harry," he said, still smiling at his soul mate. Harry gave him a small smile in return. It wasn't his real smile, but it was a start.

"I'm glad to finally be home, Pete," Harry told him.

"Yeah, me too, Har," Peter answered.

**~…~**

**The End**

**~…~**


	13. End Credits

A/N: I know a few of you are wondering, "Why didn't you make Peter Spider Man again at the end of 'Over'?" Well, here's your answer. Think of it as the scene at the very end of a Marvel movie. Let me know what you think! R&amp;R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**End Credits**

**~…~**

The night was cool. What few stars that weren't blocked out by the pollution sparkled brilliantly in their celestial heaven above. The metal structure of the tower was cold, almost painful to the touch at first, but quickly warmed underneath the heat of his hand. A breeze blew past, soft and bone chilling, causing him to shiver. Peter knew that he shouldn't be up here, on the top of OsCorp Tower, but he needed to get away, he needed time to clear his head. And he needed to do that alone.

As much as he loved Harry and Aunt May – and he did; they were his life – he felt as though this was something he needed to do. Alone. Or rather, he felt as though he needed to be alone. The funny thing was, now that he was, now that he was by himself, his thoughts had gone back and forth from what was bothering him.

Initially, Peter had scaled the OsCorp Tower to think, think about becoming Spider Man once again. Five months had passed since Harry had come out of his three week coma, and although spring was the season for hope and renewal, Peter didn't feel hopeful. As a matter of fact, it felt as though a part of him had gone missing, and it had. Spider Man was no longer part of him, he was no longer part of Spider Man, and that was hard. It was hard and difficult to live without Spider Man. Yet, it was something he had to do.

Peter had sworn to Harry that he would give up being Spider Man in an attempt to atone for his mistakes, but as the weeks, and then the months, trickled past him, he found that to be easier said than done. Spider Man had been a big part of his life and Peter was finding it extremely difficult to continue being just Peter Parker, especially since all of his powers and abilities still worked to their fullest. They had never dimmed, never decreased. In fact, they only seemed to grow and evolve.

But Peter couldn't do it. He couldn't be Spider Man again, even though he really, really, _really_ wanted to. A promise was a promise. That was that.

Or at least, that was the way it should have been.

Harry was better now. He was in control. The Goblin never came out unless Harry allowed him to and when he did, he bowed down to Harry and his demands. That was one of the brighter sides to being an Osborn, Peter supposed, and that thought nearly made him smile slightly. But whenever some major threat, like the Rhino, would appear, Harry would be the one to go out and stop him. Because Peter wasn't Spider Man.

They had gotten into arguments over it. Harry hadn't come right out and told Peter to put the mask on again, but he had hinted and suggested it. Peter knew that Harry thought that, in the end, it was Peter's decision. He was right, it was, but Peter still felt as though this self-inflicted punishment was repentance for what he had done, for all of the lives he had destroyed, for all of the people who had died in his wake. Even when Harry would contradict that belief, it was still there. Until Harry flat out told him all was forgiven and forgotten, Peter couldn't bring himself to put his mask on again.

It was unfair to Harry. He couldn't and shouldn't be fitting all of those criminals and monsters by himself. Although he was himself again and healthy, he was only one person. One person could only handle so much. And while Peter had helped him out as just Peter, Harry needed Spider Man. The city needed Spider Man. Hell, Peter needed Spider Man. But it wasn't that simple…

"I knew you would be here," came Harry's voice from behind him. Peter hadn't even heard him; he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't been paying attention to much of anything except the night sky and the cool wind.

"How?" Peter asked, gazing at the city, still so bright and alive even late at night.

"You always come up here when you want to be alone and think. It lets you use your powers without being Spider Man," Harry said casually, although Peter could hear the exhaustion and the tension in his soul mate's voice.

"If Spider Man came back, the city would be in more danger. How many criminals have already destroyed parts of the city because they were hunting me down?" Peter asked Harry, blinking slowly. He was tired. He needed sleep. But he couldn't sleep. Just like he couldn't be Spider Man.

"More than plenty," Harry answered him. "But Spider Man is the city's hero. Not the Goblin, Peter." He turned and looked at Peter. And Peter looked back at him.

"Harry," Peter said, his voice thick with emotion, his brown eyes afraid and pleading. He didn't want to hurt Harry, not in any way, and he still owed it to him. Didn't he? "I…I can't."

"Yes, Peter, you can. I…I _want_ you to," Harry told him, his blue eyes bright and boring into Peter's brown ones. "But it's not just about what I want. It's about what you want too, Pete. And it's about what the city needs."

"The city needs someone who knows what they're doing," Peter said softly, his voice a mere mumble amidst the many honking car horns and sirens from far below.

"You were on the right track, Peter," Harry said, his voice softening. "You need to get back on track again."

"Why are you so adamant about this?" Peter asked suddenly. He had been dying to know the answer since they had started arguing about Spider Man coming back three months ago. Harry sighed and he suddenly looked just as tired and worn out as Peter did, which automatically made him feel bad and guilty.

"I'm doing this because I see what's happening to you, Peter. You're not yourself anymore and I want you back," Harry replied. "All of you. Not just part of you; now just half. But all of you, Pete."

Peter didn't know what to say. He hadn't realized that it had gotten that bad. Although he knew that it was bad, he didn't know just how bad. Not until now, that is.

He watched as Harry stood up. His dirty blonde hair blew as the wind billowed past him and Peter was half afraid that Harry would topple over the edge and fall to his death. That wouldn't happen. He wouldn't allow that to happen, not ever. Harry looked down at him, his expression serious but not unkind.

"Be Spider Man again, Peter," he said and dropped something down onto Peter's lap. "I'll see you at home." With that, he left.

How long he remained seated on the top of OsCorp Tower after that, Peter didn't know. When he looked down at his lap to see what Harry had dropped there, he saw his Spider Man suit, lying there as though it was a normal, everyday thing. It looked so familiar and yet his memory had diluted what it looked like. All of it was finally coming back to him as he gazed at his suit. His heart ached as he stared at it and he shivered when the wind blew again.

Harry was right. Of course he was; he was an Osborn after all. New York City needed him to be Spider Man again. Harry needed him to be Spider Man again. And Peter needed to be Spider Man again. That was all there was to it. It was as simple as that. It was time for Peter to stop wallowing in self-pity; it was time for him to stop being so stupid and selfish; it was time for him to be Spider Man again.

"Hey, yo, Peter. What's up?" called a familiar voice. Peter looked up and was staring face to face with Tony Stark. A small smile wormed its way onto his face.

For the past five months, Tony had been like a third father to him – his second having been Uncle Ben, of course. It was nice, having someone like Tony, someone who was incredibly smart and who had experience, to talk to, to ask for advice. They had a lot in common, Peter had found, and he was glad he had met Tony on that park bench what seemed to be an eternity ago, even though it was only a handful of months.

And, of course, seeing him in his Iron Man suit was always a treat.

"Not much. Just…just thinking," Peter said as he stood up.

"Yeah, I can see that. Clint likes high places too. So does Steve, but that's only when he's brooding," Tony said. "And since you're not part bird or elf, you must be brooding."

"I was. I just…had to figure something out," Peter said and briefly held up his suit.

"Ah, I was gonna ask about that," Tony said as he landed with a gentle thud on the tower beside Peter.

"You were?" Peter asked.

"No, actually. I'm here on behalf of Nick Fury," Tony said with a roll of his eyes. "I don't see why I have to be the one to come, but I guess it makes sense, seeing as how I know you and would stand a higher chance of talking you into it."

"Talking me into…what?" Peter questioned, perplexed by Tony's words. Tony stepped closer to him and met his gaze in that head-on, Tony Stark kind of way.

"Peter Parker, I'm here to talk to you about the Avengers," Tony told him, his face serious and lacking any of his usual sarcasm or superiority.

And all Peter could say was, "Holy shit."

**~…~**

**The End**

**~…~**

A/N: I hoped you all liked it! Let me know what you think!


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